


In Dreams

by Shatterpath



Category: Bionic Woman (2007)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-23
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say 'never trust the quiet ones.' What about the repressed ones and the dreams that they can't put away? It only gets worse when dreams and reality get blurry…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: This idea has been plaguing me for days. DAYS! So, I finally couldn't ignore the muses any longer and plunked my butt down to beat this out. In four and half hours, this was basically done. What can I say? With the right motivation and an idea tenacious as a hungry pit bull, I can be very prolific.
> 
> Dedication: Since it's darkhawkhealer's birthday, she's a fellow fan and a good pal, this is dedicated to her. In fact, she got to choose the nature of the ending as well as easily convincing me add in the 'in love with Jonas' scene.
> 
> SPOILERS!!!! Yes, there are spoilers from at least three episodes! In fact, if you don't watch the show, I'm going to lose you. However, the theme might be accessible enough that you'll like it anyway.

It's stupid. It's unprofessional. It's madness.

Exhausted, I drag myself from bed, the dream images lingering like a fog that won't burn away. Lately, they feel more real than my 'real' life.

By rote, I bathe, brush my teeth, put on the trappings of my job… but the images won't go away.

I know when it started. At first, this new girl was just another project, another mind to study and understand. Attractive, certainly, but that's not at all I saw. Then… then she muscled in on my life. Jonas, damn him, allowed it. In that small town, every living thing dead, I saw something in her. There was no sleep, just the adrenaline of the mission for nearly two days. Keep the lone survivor a survivor, stop the bad guys, find the chemical, stop the plot, tear the pages out of their playbook. As per usual, when I crashed it was an ugly affair, hard on my body and mind.

That was when the dreams started.

Memories twist. She stood at the two-way mirror, eavesdropping on Jonas' office, pressuring to accompany me to Paradise to find out what left so many innocent bodies in its wake. There was something… stark and almost hungry in her expression, the shocking blue eyes against her dark hair and clothes. During the trip, she respected my brittle silence for a long time, until the dull rural scenery drove her to small talk. I still resisted, even when she complimented my beloved old GTO, desperate to keep her at arm's length where everyone belongs.

When I flashed my 'badge' at the guard, a parody in his bio-suit, he accepted my explanation that the pretty young thing in the passenger seat was my muscle. I felt like some kind of bad 70's pimp as I said it, even as I was certain that my expression never changed. The amused and oddly pleased smirk on her face was not lost on me and the memory of it haunts me.

But even then, I kept her on the other side of the mental armor. Sure, I realized that my defenses were under attack, but the castle walls held.

Until I followed her bionic hearing into that basement.

In full-tilt mission mode, I relied on body memory, adrenaline and the gun to keep me safe, the terrified teen with a mouthful of toothpaste suds just another object to be classified as hostile or harmless.

"Ruth, put the gun down, she's just a kid."

Was it hearing my name? Or the gentle touch of her hand pushing my arm down? It wasn't until much later that I even registered that it was the bionic hand, for it felt no different than anyone else's.

The rest of the mission is a blur, my body and brain on autopilot. Oh sure, several things stand out, like the grenade trap, black-garbed figures threatening us to the pavement, firing where our bodies had only just been, only to be revealed as my coworkers.

Dull pain flares out as I thump my head into the mirror at the entryway to my domicile.

"Physician, heal thyself," I mock my reflection.

\+ + + +

Grabbing the gun and my hand both, she twists both effortlessly, pinning me to the wall, her gleaming, pale eyes as implacable as her grip. "Fast enough for you, Ruth?" she mocks softly, that slender, strong body pressed suffocating close, making me dizzy. I'm terrified and turned on, the thick castle walls of iron self-control crumbling. The unnatural strength of her bionic hand and the cold metal gun leaves my vulnerable hand trapped in the compressed space between, as surely as the wall and her immovable body.

It's not a gentle kiss, and it's me that makes the small, kittenish noise. Whether it's to encourage her or beg her not to hurt me, I'm not at all sure.

Jerking awake, I'm so disoriented, that the pulse of blood in my ears and the blur of my surroundings terrify me for an endless moment. It's… it's my office… dear god, I didn't. But my arms are dead numb where they've been cushioning my head on my desk and my back aches.

Shit!

Reality settles a bit more as the intercom buzzes again. "Doctor Truewell?" asks the voice of the temp secretary I've got for now. Barely able to move my arm, I clumsily slap at the damn phone.

"Yes, what is it?"

God, my voice sounds rough and husky even to my own ears!

"Your one o'clock is here."

Back to business…

\+ + + +

I'm not the only one intrigued by the new girl. Every member of the staff watches her furtively. After all, she's the tip of the spear, so to speak. Billions of dollars of research, technology, skills and surgery are walking around in that fine-looking package. Not to mention how many of us remember Sarah Corvus.

Those of us in the top tiers are still wondering at the connection between the two women and what exactly it means.

Voices distract me, Jamie's and another female I don't recognize. My alarm at the teenage, rich babysitting job coming around the corner is very real. "What is she doing here? This is a top secret facility." Both of us ignore the brat as she says something snotty.

"I'm going out for a few hours," Jamie explains before turning her attention back to the brat. "This is Ruth. She's going to run a few tests on you."

My smile is false and strained, but I'll play along because I'm fairly certain where Jamie is headed. Jonas might try to keep me out of the loop, but he rarely manages. I'll help our new girl out, even if it means taking over the handling of this self-centered punk kid. Who at the moment is looking at me like something she might scrape off her shoe.

"Is she a lesbian?"

Okay, screw the polite smile. Now it's personal.

Jamie makes a small sound that might be amusement, even as I start psychologically dissecting the brat, and walks off with a jolly, "have fun."

Let the games begin.

\+ + + +

That had been great fun, nearly reducing the teenage wannabe badass to tears. Not to mention Jamie's obvious enjoyment of the way she crawled off like a whipped puppy, desperate to get the hell away from me. Honestly, some people just don't respond to good old-fashioned therapy well.

Sending away the brat, Jamie congratulates me in a very personal way, plopping her weight into my lap, that teasing smile still in place. "Let me thank you properly, Ruth," she purrs, all gentle and kittenish with me this time, nuzzling my ear, her breath hot and moist.

Deep in my subconscious, she feels so very warm and normal. Will and his madman of a father would be the types to think of that detail. No odd discrepancies in weight, skin resilient and soft, body temp nearly identical across the canvas of her skin. Whether or not I'm right or wrong has no effect on my lizard brain. This is the disadvantage of having to remain focused on someone so intriguing. I mean, this is my job, but I'm obviously in way too deep.

The false body memory of Jamie Sommers haunts me even when I blink awake to my darkened bedroom, the night quiet and peaceful around me. I used to be in control of my life, I used to be a professional in a position that many would kill for… and yet I can't seem to stop acting like some idiot, hormonal teenager.

Groaning with frustration, I roll to my back, oddly soothed by the normalcy of the bedding bunched up uncomfortably around my body, and stare at the shadowed ceiling. Would I even take the chance? The train of thought is madness, but I can't stop the pressure of it behind my eyes. And what the hell makes her so different from all the other lives I've dissected?

Sitting up with a tortured groan, I scrub both hands harshly over my face and back through the disarray of my pale hair. Arms flung sloppily over my raised knees, I sag my head and once more try to calm my overactive imagination. Stopping this madness obviously isn't going to happen, but perhaps I might get some more sleep tonight.

Sheer, mind-freezing terror is not a foreign concept to me. After all, stay in the game long enough and you'll almost start getting used to it.

Someone steps from the shadows like they materialized there. In the split second of neurons and adrenaline processing all of this new stimulation, I realize who the hell it is.

"Jamie?" squeaks from my throat, barely audible over my thundering heart.

"Yeah," she murmurs, moving sinuously to step up onto the bed near my toes. "I've been watching you," her hand gestures to her sternum before pointing almost accusingly at me, "watching me." Despite myself, I cringe away guiltily. Effortlessly graceful, the high-heeled boots strut halfway across the mattress, straddling my prone body, and I stare wordlessly up the whole seductive length of her.

Oh boy…

"You're curious," Jamie muses to herself, as though we're in polite conversation and she's not standing over my nearly-naked and entirely vulnerable body, still trapped in my bedding. The bed shakes as she gracefully sinks down, straddling my waist and lower ribs with those strong, slim thighs. "So was I, once I got over the shock of the changes."

I'm off the map, lost the script, utterly clueless to what the hell is going on. With nonchalant ease, Jamie shrugs off her jacket, tossing it aside and skins off her white t-shirt. This is no more than anyone in the facility has seen, the skin-tight sports bra holding those fine breasts hostage… but the context has changed everything.

"Nothing really feels any different," Jamie is musing nonchalantly, holding her right hand out full extension, as though admiring a really fine manicure. A flash of a wicked smile does nothing to calm my heart rate. "At least not on the outside."

As shocking as the fear, is the slide of Jamie's hands over my upper chest, pushing away the flimsy fabric of the camisole I wore to bed. Both hands with their warm palms and fingers splay over my bones and beating heart. Wordless, expression inscrutable, the other woman is still, her weight heavy on my pelvis, light on my chest. Her fingertips curl loosely over my clavicles, touch the base of my throat. The temptation is too much, my hands moving with no control of my upper brain, only the pads of my fingertips skimming the smooth planes of her arms.

To my surprise, they don't feel different at all. Sure, I know that the right limb is a full replacement, powerful enough to throw a grown man for a touchdown, but gentle enough to calm my frantic pulse beneath the tips of her fingers. Pressed to my lower body, the bionic legs feel the same too, and my shock begins to melt away.

"C'mere," I whisper, wrapping my hands around her elbows and Jamie allows me to draw her down to my body, pushing away the blanket and sheet with her boots, snuggling the whole length of her into me. It's an entirely odd moment of peaceful intimacy, her hands still on my chest, her ear pressed to them, my hands stroking her head and back.

"No one's held me like this, since…"

There's no need to finish the sentence and I feel my internal doctor/nurturer reawaken. This is territory I understand, even if the therapy is unorthodox. "You feel nice to me."

It's a lame line, but it earns a mutual snort of amusement and Jamie shifts her elbows out to lever herself up and look at me. "Your heart rate's finally calming," she notes idly and I think I might be blushing with embarrassment.

"You scared the hell out of me."

"That's not it." Damn. Caught by the young woman who really can track my pulse from across a room. "Can you see me in this light?"

Taken aback, I answer truthfully. "Only dimly. It's pretty dark." My breath strangles in my throat as the night-black eyes change. Well, the left one stays the same, but the right… the right glows oh-so faintly in electronic lines of acid green. "Oh… oh my," I breathe stupidly, "I didn't know it did that."

Now Jamie is curious, head cocked like an animal, and I reach up to stroke the side of her face, circle that faintly glowing eye with my thumb. "It really doesn't bother you," Jamie whispers and she sounds stunned.

"On some level, perhaps." Good, I'm starting to sound more like myself, despite the sheer strangeness of the situation. "But, no, I can see you past all of this… stuff."

Something subtle shifts in Jamie's body. If we weren't pressed together as tight as lovers, I probably wouldn't have even noticed it. Closing her eyes, she drops her head with a quiet sound of relief that moves me. Her mouth rests at the corner of mine and I am blind in the waterfall of dark hair, her breath warm on my cheekbone. "Thank you," she whispers, feather-soft and the tickle of that fine mouth brings up a distressed animal sound from deep in my soul.

I can't forget how attractive I find her and start to panic.

"Don't," Jamie breathes, mouth to mouth with me now, the brush of her lips on mine shattering. "Don't panic, don't analyze, just feel."

And that's it.

Her mouth is supple, teasing, fitting closely to mine, kissing me deeply. There's no awkwardness, no hesitation, just this animal drive to be close. Her hands shift away to the bed, her thumbs stroking my carotid arteries in a way that makes fear turn to liquid heat from cerebellum to groin.

Growling urgently, she effortlessly locks me between those inhumanly strong thighs, drags me with her as she rolls to the side, ripping off my camisole hard enough to score my skin. "Animal," I can't help but giggle breathlessly, wondering at the touch of the artificial that feels so real, trailing down my spine. Jamie growls something incoherent, clinging to me like a leech, kissing me like the world is going to end… or I'm her only ticket back to it.

"Dammit, Ruth," she whines, still wrapped around me. "Help me out here." Now I'm laughing for real, squirming away only far enough to help yank at her clothes. Why tugging down the zippers on her boots before freeing her feet gives me such a visceral thrill is something I'll have to analyze at a later date. The thin socks, then the tight jeans she's already got down to her knees, only a crimson red thong adorning her fine young body.

"Lie still."

Yes, that was my voice, speaking in that quiet, implacable tone. Curious, maybe even a little intimidated, Jamie lies still, completely in my thrall for the very first time. Truthfully, there is a rush at having this power over this powerful creature. Silently, I place one hand on her thigh, caressing the flesh that is not flesh. Really, it's shocking how real she feels. Not that I'm completely familiar with the female body, but still…

Curious and tender, I trace over the curve of her hip, yanking away the line of the skimpy underwear to study her. My hand travels further up all that naked flesh from hip, tracing every rib beneath the softness and up to her shoulder. I can sense the wide blue eyes more than see them.

The smile that curls up one corner of my mouth is very authentic. "You feel the same all over."

"Prove it," Jamie teases back, but her voice shakes with nerves and her hands are urgent.

Should I feel used? Maybe. But right now she needs me and I need her and I am simply too off balance to behave myself. But then, as I lean in close to kiss her again, the glow of that eye reminds me of something and it's like a bucket of ice water.

"The camera…"

Laughter is not at all the reaction I expected in response to my abject horror. Not only does Jamie laugh, but curls up on her back and howls with it. Then she registers how disoriented and maybe even hurt I am, drawing me close again for kisses and caresses. "Sorry, Ruth. Sarah taught me how to turn the headware off. No more watching every move I make for the voyeurs."

Part of me notes that Jonas will be pissed as hell over that little trick. Part of me is telling that part of my mind to go to hell. Now is not the time for thinking. Raw and uninhibited, Jamie feeds at my vulnerable body like a starving animal. Terrified and blindingly horny, all I can do is go along for the ride. There's a frightening sound, my bedsprings twisting in protest to the grip of that right hand, so close to where she could hurt me so badly.

But she doesn't hurt me. At all. In fact she leaves me writhing and shouting with pleasure before rolling over, and with vulnerable and scared eyes, allows me free access to her permanently changed body. There's a wordless stream of sounds from deep within Jamie's chest as I worship her all over, scalp to toes, accepting her exactly as she is.

\+ + + +

Have meetings ever been this stressful? Jonas is droning on and on about something and I can barely keep my eyes off of Jamie, sitting directly opposite me, lounging back in her chair indolently. The woman is really getting that predatory body language that must come with the bionics. We all certainly saw it enough in Sarah before she went off the deep end.

Thankfully, the meeting is wrapping up and everyone is starting to move around in preparation for leaving. Shaking off my distraction, I move to join in, startled when Jamie is suddenly at my elbow. "Why Ruth," she mocks with a wicked grin that alarms my sensibilities. "You seem awfully hot and bothered. Anything you'd like to share with the class?"

A furtive glance reveals that only Jae has witnessed the exchange and how I cower back from our new bionic woman. Oh great… how will I live this one down?

"Yeah," my long time coworker chuckles. "Someone will have to break it gently to Jonas that you've been staring at him like some lovesick teenager."

Shocked awake, I'm halfway sitting up, stunned, alarmed and more than a little disturbed at the twisted bend that my subconscious has taken now. I admire Jonas greatly, but not like that! Tell that to the pair of sophomoric grins I'm facing down now…

Except that I'm in my own bed… sunlight streaming through the open curtains, chasing off the latest of the all-to-real dreams.

Sitting up with a tortured groan, I scrub both hands harshly over my face and back through the disarray of my pale hair. Arms flung sloppily over my raised knees, I sag my head and once more try to calm my overactive imagination.

"Ruth?"

Nearly leaping clean out of the bed in shock, I jump and twist around only to have my jaw sag open in shock. Sleepy-eyed and disheveled is Jamie Sommers, stark naked in my bed, rubbing her left eye. A sly, warm grin shines for a moment before she hooks that same hand around my neck and pulls me, unresisting, to her warm body.

"Have your dreams really been that weird?"

"Yes," I answer truthfully, clinging to her, utterly convinced that I'm still dreaming even now.

"Yeah, me too. Some good, some bad. I gotta tell you doc, I think I like this version of therapy better."

Okay… that's not something that my brain would come up with. Jamie's voice goes from musing to distinctly amused, and her bionic hand combs through my hair tenderly. "Smartass."

There's a few peaceful minutes where I can take stock. I'm pleasantly sore, well-rested and nicely cuddled. Turning my head the other way, I trail a hand out over the mattress and get quite a startle at the feel of warped springs beneath the padding. This is a detail even my detail-oriented brain would be hard pressed to come up with.

"You owe me a new mattress, Sommers," I mutter and laughter boils up from the body beneath mine.

"So, we're okay?"

There's fear mixed with the humor and I take a moment to collect myself before propping my upper body on my elbows. It takes a real effort to ignore the way she feels against me. "Are we okay?" Her nose wrinkles up at that cliché psychologist's trick of answering a question with a question. "I'd like us to be okay," I gentle and she smiles a little shyly.

"I don't normally start friendships so weirdly. Sorry to take advantage of you, Ruth."

The laughter that bubbles up from a long-ignored place deep inside is not at all feigned. "I think I'm flattered, Jamie."

Neither of us wants, needs or could probably handle some kind of 'happily ever after'. But we could both use a friend that understands us in a way that this rambunctious night has bestowed instant intimacy.

"I'll tell you what," I tell her with a bit of seriousness. "We'll keep this between us. But it does seem to be good therapy for both of us."

Now she's got the direction I'm going and smiles coyly, making me hiss when she rakes gentle fingernails down my back. "It does. And, see, my shrink says I need to relax so that my training takes root faster, so maybe we can try out these new techniques on occasion? They're very relaxing."

Chuckling in real delight at this completely bizarre twist that my life has suddenly taken, I dip my head in to pick up where we left last night. "Yeah, I think that sounds good."


	2. Dreams of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Ruth has made such a drastic change in her life… how does it bleed over into everything else? Little does she know…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: This one took a bit longer than the last, but I like the end result. This builds on what I started 'In Dreams'. Once again, a series of mental images have been strung together into a tale that I rather like!
> 
> Dedication: Believe it or not, to my long neglected Birds of Prey (TV) muses, because I finally noticed how much there were some strong parallels. Think about it; Ruth as Barbara, Becca as Dinah and stick Sarah and Jamie in the same body to get Helena. That'll make you think, huh?

++ Ruth ++

It's stupid. It's unprofessional. It's madness.

Weeks have gone by. A dozen-odd missions passing in a blur when, in the recent past, I could call up all the trivial details from each one.

Now, I feel like I can barely remember my own name, much less my identity, it seems like.

And don't I know exactly why…

What started out as a night of wild and completely unexpected sexual healing with that girl-woman and her tortured eyes has turned into a strange and very real bond that fascinates me. Every other night, every third at the most, Jamie sneaks into my little house to molest my willing self.

I don't even know how the hell she gets past the security system. To save my sanity and reduce paranoia, I haven't asked. She's so quiet, sneaking up on me like a ninja, making me jump, heart racing, as she puts hands and mouth on my unsuspecting body. In truth, she startles me every single damn time she's been here and seems to enjoy startling me. Since it puts me under her thrall, BP revved up like the GTO's big engine, adrenaline like a drug, I really can't complain about the game.

The affair has changed me on a fundamental level. This bright, sassy puppy of a young woman has altered how I live my life, eroding my icy isolation like the tide.

"God, I'm getting too old for this," I mutter to the empty house, gathering up the paraphernalia of my sandwich making to return it all to the refrigerator.

"You're only as old as you feel," comes a voice from nowhere, scaring me half to death, condiments and sandwich filling smashing all over the kitchen floor. The voice registers even as I whirl around, not at all believing what I just heard.

Oh… oh crap.

Like a nightmare stands, not my lover, but her evil twin. Not just crazed and deadly dangerous Sarah Corvus, but a waifish teenage girl sprawled unconscious in her arms. It's an incongruous image in my kitchen and I'm not sure that this is really happening.

"S… Sarah," I breathe harshly, quietly, and her feverish dark eyes watch me like a hawk.

"Jamie trusts you," her voice says quietly and completely seriously. "So here we are." Only then do I wrench my eyes downward to the still figure in her arms.

"Is that…?" I question in horror and Sarah steps back into the living room, trusting me to follow. I pause and look over at where my gun lays on the entryway table, but pause. If Sarah had intended to hurt me, she would have already.

Dammit, Jamie better be right about her.

In my bedroom, Sarah has very tenderly laid out the unconscious teenager and clicked on the bedside lamp. "Someone snatched her," is the quiet explanation and I shudder inwardly at the slightly maniacal smile Sarah flashes over her shoulder. "I snatched her back."

There's more to the story of this than what Sarah's telling me, but right now I'm concerned for Rebecca. Peeling back both eyelids, I note the pupils react normally and breathe a sigh of relief. Her pulse is normal and her breathing unobstructed.

Jamie's on a mission with Jae and I stare at the phone on my bedside table. Should I call Jonas with this new development? The debate stalls when I note that Sarah has vanished. God, she's even quieter than Jamie…

Yet, I'm not really surprised to find the first bionic woman standing pensively in my living room. The weight of our history and the company that links us is like a solid barrier between us.

"Thank you," is all I can think to say, searching the hazel dark eyes for any sign of the soldier I once knew. There are shards of her, like the broken glass on my kitchen floor. What the hell went so wrong?

"Don't overanalyze, doc," Sara tells me placidly, a hint of the gentler sarcasm that I remember. "I find myself keeping an eye out on the kid. Good thing too." I'm at a loss for words and Sarah obviously understands that. Something that might be discomfort passes over her stark face and she fumbles out a pack of cigarettes. "Guess I should stick around for awhile." Nervously, she taps out one of the sticks and places it in the corner of her mouth. "Y'know, in case they come back for her."

Her hands are shaking alarmingly and I snatch away the lighter, enjoying her mildly startled expression. "Just this once, Sarah," I admonish lightly and flick the lighter to life. There's a wary acceptance in response to my gesture and the acrid smell of tobacco fills my living room.

A strange hour and a half passes like this. A silent Sarah keeps watch while I clean up the kitchen and finish my neglected sandwich and puzzle over what the hell to do with my unexpected guests.

What am I going to tell Rebecca? What am I going to tell Jonas?

"You'll think of something." Sarah says nonchalantly and makes me jump just a little.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"No, but you've gotten very expressive." The droll expression morphs into something wicked and teasing, which I find alarming and strangely charming. "But I'm guessing that has something to do with Jamie, hmm?"

Panic is a very real tension in brain and stomach and I'll bet that my expression speaks volumes.

++ Jamie ++

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?"

Jae's only response is to chuckle humorlessly as I follow him down the hallway of the Burkett Group complex. We're tired and beat up and sick of the crap we've had to do for three straight days. Right now, I'm desperate for a shower, change of clothes and a good answer to where the hell I should spend the night. I should go home, but I'd really like to go crawl into Ruth's big bed and cuddle.

Like my life isn't complicated enough, with my mixed feelings about the older woman, Becca still clueless about my life, Sarah messing with my head…

What the hell was that?

Seriously…

Stopping in my tracks, I stand there, trying to contemplate what my brain just registered from my eyes. Either I've gone psychotic or something has gone seriously gone wrong.

Hesitantly, I step back as though in slow motion reverse and force myself to look through the glass wall into the main conference room. Later it will amuse me that Jae has echoed my maneuver and stares just as blankly.

Ruth… Sarah… and Becca…

My sister and my nemesis/evil twin wave mischievously at me while my lover looks pained and mildly amused. I'm really not sure who I'm the most glad to see.

"Holy crap…" Jae mutters as Becca jumps to her feet and trots over to open the door and throw herself at me for a hug.

"Jamie! They told me everything and I can't believe you're like some kind of superwoman now and I totally understand that you couldn't say anything and I'm not mad or anything stupid like that, it makes sense and I can't believe what happened and that Will did this and I like Sarah and Ruth is cool and…"

To make Becca take a breath and give my brain a moment to catch up, I grab her head, slapping a hand over her mouth. "I don't have any idea why you're here," I say hoarsely around the lump in my throat, "but I couldn't possibly be any happier to see you."

Yep, she feels real as I grip her close with a relieved sigh. Which she allows for a moment before sassing me, "seriously though, what is it with you and doctors?"

Meeting Ruth's sheepish and amused gaze through the glass, I can't help but laugh.

Becca follows me to the locker room where I shower, listening to her chatter on the other side of the wall. She's as wired as a squirrel on caffeine and I don't even hear half of what she's saying, not bothering to kick on my new ear. It's enough to just hear her voice.

Imagine my surprise when Ruth appears at the opposite end of the showers, her face impassive as always. At least when she's at work. Leaving the water to run, I walk towards her, responding to the energy in her eyes. I do my best to match her cool expression, but I'm guessing that my eyes give it away. Hopefully, we're not being watched too closely. I've given up on my privacy in this place and try make a habit of avoiding looking down at myself while I clean up.

Not to mention keeping my gaze aimed over Ruth's shoulder so that she isn't compromised by the camera installed in my head. "It's just a flesh wound," I quip sarcastically in a truly bad English accent, quirking a faint smile from Ruth. Her hands are clinical when they touch me, but I'm surprised at how powerful my memories of her touch are, making me shiver.

"If you've been reduced to Monty Python, you must be hurting but healing," Ruth drawls as she walks around my body, fingertips mapping the wounds and bruises tenderly. "They all look like they're fading normally. Bet you're stiff and sore though. You should see someone about that."

A smile curls my mouth, my hormones responding to the low thrum of her voice. "Thanks Ruth, I'll do that."

The rest of the day is a blur that has Becca bunking up in Ruth's second bedroom which is a claustrophobic little home office. Sarah's on the couch near Becca's open door playing guard dog. I still don't understand Sarah's motivations, I really don't, but she's in my sister's life now and the bond there is strangely authentic. Becca even seems to really like Ruth and the energy there feels like a mentor-student role.

It feels weird, this odd little family unit that's fallen into place, but here we are, real as life.

I like this house; it feels more like home than the sprawling loft that we Sommers girls share. Where I am and what I'm doing sure as hell helps. Right now I'm sprawled on my stomach, relaxed, happy and eying the twisted mattress springs with guilty pleasure. When I came to Ruth all those nights ago, I wasn't sure what the hell I was after. Just a connection to another human being and a brief reprieve from freakdom. I know that she didn't want it, the connection, but she allowed me to persuade her to let me close.

Neither of us could have expected how that night would turn out.

Desperate for simple human contact, terrified of my own body and what it's now capable of, I was out of places to go. Becca in the dark, Sarah too frightening and everyone at Berkut too standoffish and cold. A girl can only handle so much of being made to feel like a science experiment and I was beginning to get stir crazy.

Whether it's true or just the job classification as the psychiatrist and head information broker, Ruth Truewell is the only sympathetic link in the company. Desperate, I followed that lifeline to its source to find solace. Sure, things aren't any different at work, not noticeably anyway, but I can feel the bond. Am I reading too much into it?

The slide of her oily hands on my back and neck are sublime, pressing into the dulled pain and stiffness beneath my skin. Groaning heavily, the endorphins overriding the inhibitions of my sister just a couple of doors away, I wallow in Ruth's caring touch. The woman might generally be a complete hard ass, but she's got magic hands. A naughty smile curls my mouth with memories. A damn wicked mouth too.

After a brief freak out over doing the deed with another female, I got over it. We're both grownups and Ruth has made no move to throw me out of her bed. So I must be doing something right by her and me both. Half the time when I sneak past her elaborate security system (it's a good challenge) all I want is a warm body to cling to. Every time she startles at my invasion, but falls back to sleep faster every time.

That trust makes me feel good.

In return, I have someone to reassure me that I'm not a freak and an ally that I desperately need. Even Jonas has started to pick up that I'm far more willing to deal with Ruth than him. Wonder how long we can keep this up?

"Missed you," I groan softly as Ruth digs in harder to my muscles, pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure. Anthracites or no anthracites, I'm all beat to hell and her hands feel amazing over my back and shoulders. "Bitch."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

Bracing my left hand and levering up on that and my inhumanly powerful legs, I raise both our bodies with no effort, enjoying Ruth's sound of surprise and the way she clings to me for balance. Coming down on my side, I quickly wiggle around so that I'm on my back and able to look into her affectionate expression. It wasn't meant to be a heavy moment, but suddenly, here we are.

"So," Ruth begins awkwardly. "I think Becca's more scandalized by me than the bionics."

It's the most vulnerable I've seen her since jumping on her in the first place and I pull her down to kiss her enthusiastically. "Do you think it's that we're both girls? Or the age gap?" The sassiness earns me a sour look that doesn't reach the pale eyes, so mercurial in color. They range from hazel to green to almost yellow if she's in a real mood.

"You're a smartass."

The dry, flat tone she uses at work amuses the hell out of me here, naked in her bed. "You noticed, doc?" It gives me great pleasure to mess up the straight blonde hair, a starker pale than other places on her strong body! With that grip on the soft strands, I pull her down to gently and thoroughly explore her mouth again. Being a lover has taught me important lessons in self-control and how to instruct these new and artificial parts of myself. Every goofball at the facility can lecture me until they're blue in the face, but being bionic is a hands-on skill, so to speak. Between Sarah's coaching and Ruth's trust, I've come further than anyone can believe. On this last mission, Jae was surprised as hell.

Shoving aside all the banal crap in my head, I concentrate on this still-surprising lover, snaking my left arm around her neck, trailing the bionic one down her spine. Trying to explain the different stimuli is an exercise in futility, but it is different. Clinically, I know that Ruth is significantly older than I, nearly eighteen years, but all I care about is that her skin is soft and she's an amazing kisser and I'm the only one that sees the particularly sweet smile she gets when really loosened up.

Sloppy, urgent kisses leave me moaning softly, her breath is harsh and quick, her urgency telegraphed clearly to me. A faint growling noise rumbles up as I curl that right hand into her tense glute and her yellowed eyes make me grin into the kisses.

++ Ruth ++

As much as I like what Jamie's doing, I can't shake the inhibition of our company. The fact that volatile original bionic woman can hear us is the least of my worries about her, but not the fifteen year old.

My shudder doesn't go unnoticed by Jamie.

"What is it?" she hums, rolling us over so that she's on top. Self-conscious, I can't look her straight in the eye, nor can I miss that curious and sweet smile of hers. Not to mention when she drops her head to suckle lightly at my pulse, making my nerves tingle and my muscles tense pleasantly. "Is it Becca and Sarah?"

There was a time, quite recently in fact, where I could maintain my position of being unknowable and untouchable. But Jamie will have none of it, her mouth hot and open on my neck, my breathing rough, the twisted bedsprings blunt reminder against my shoulder.

"Yes," I groan, tracing over her back and ribs with both hands. She's so impossibly beautiful and warm and loving that it just leaves me in awe to be her lover. "I can't help it. Just knowing they're so close…"

Long, dark hair trails soft and tickling over my chest, her devious mouth lost from my sight. With little preamble, she's at my nipples, knowing that's a damn efficient way to shut me up and stop me overthinking. Hot and soft, teeth a welcome tease, she suckles at one, pinches the other. Back and forth, her voice murmurs encouragement, but I just can't quite let go.

"Jame, I'm sorry, I just…" I hate the whining note in my voice. I want so badly to give into the familiar duet of our twined bodies, but I'm too aware of the others so close by.

Sitting up, my young lover eyes me with affectionate exasperation. "Will you trust me?"

Even now, I have to pause. Trust is such a difficult concept for me and makes me feel so impossibly vulnerable. A roughly voiced, wordless affirmation, my eyes sliding shut of their own volition, makes Jamie chuckle and grind her slender body down onto mine.

"C'mon, Ruth," she purrs against my sternum, biting at my skin almost hard enough to hurt. "Just say it. I want to make you feel so good." A sharp, rough suckle at that soft spot just below and between my breasts always makes me squirm helplessly. Couple it with that with the little growling noises she makes and I never stand a chance. "Just one little word…"

Why am I fighting this so hard? Jamie's mouth is low on my belly now, kissing and licking across my skin. Such a sublime sensation, making me sound strangled and desperate, even to my own ears. This devastatingly gentle tease is like quicksand, a slow and inexorable pull towards the inevitable.

Hands on my waist, tickling my skin, her tongue in my navel, my skin wet with sweat, groans low in my throat, stifled in the pillow I've clamped suffocating tight over my face, I'm losing control. The faintest of chuckles vibrates my flesh where nerves cry out with the hot and cold of her touch, her breath, her saliva on my skin. "Ask me…"

Good god, is that my voice echoing around my skull? Like a desperate animal, I beg hoarsely, wordless in my need.

"Ask me," hissed almost soundless, more sensation than sound, her chin so close, ruffling the wheat-gold curls at my groin. My heels are dug into the bed, her powerful body completely ignoring my struggles where her torso holds my thighs spread.

"Please," I can't fight the need any longer. "God, Jamie, please!"

Jamie mercifully wiggles down, tossing my legs over her shoulders, that teasing mouth finding my burn and I can only hope that the pillow will muffle my cries.

\+ + + +

It's my one completely frivolous indulgence. The roar of the massive V8 engine is something strangely addictive and I've been around the damn thing since it was new and I can't bear to give it up. Despite the mixed memories wrapped up in its darkly painted chassis and original leather seats, I can't bear to be parted with my big car.

Jamie complimented the beast as we drove to the devastated town of Paradise. She knew what it was and even the year of its manufacture. Secretly, I was pleased and impressed, but not ready to tell the girl that.

On an empty, isolated road, the roar of the big engine is like a racing heartbeat, the road translated through the ton and a half body like tremors beneath the skin. It's an almost sexual thrill, this enormous, heavy machine in my control. Beside me, Jamie watches the scenery and I watch her from the corner of my eye.

The flat, straight road and monochromatic farm scenery is making me sleepy from boredom. If I were any good at small talk, I might try and break up the quiet, but nothing comes to me.

Then suddenly, abruptly, Jamie scoots across the seat, leaning over so that her breath mixes with the breeze from the open window. Startled, my foot slips from the accelerator, the GTO losing its lion's roar rumble. "No," Jamie breathes, that bionic hand curling around my right knee. "I like the way it feels."

Dry-mouthed, I stomp the accelerator, pressing us back into the seat for a moment, the engine wailing fiercely. Whatever she's up to, I'm game, because this car changes me, makes me more like the woman beneath the armor. It's a good thing that I've been driving this exact car for twenty-five years, because the feel of her wet tongue circling my ear nearly puts us violently out into the verdant fields.

Even as I register the surreal impossibility of the act, Jamie chuckles softly, "keep your hands on the wheel, doc," and somehow manages to wedge her slender frame between me and the steering wheel. Open-mouthed, she kisses me, the vibration of the car's wailing engine echoing in body and mind, from me to her and back again.

Out of control, freed like a wild animal from a cage, the car takes on a life of its own and I just… let it happen.

Blinking awake, I am once again wrapped up in Jamie Sommers, the quiet of the house unbroken so far as I can tell. Her body is soft and warm in my arms, against my belly and thighs where we're spooned. I can't help the strangled snort of amusement at this most recent of my very elaborate fantasies about this woman.

"Hey," Jamie murmurs sleepily, reaching back to stroke my head and cheek. "wha's up?"

"A dream," I hum in easy reply, nuzzling her dark crown and settling back into her body.

"Yeah, I got that," Jamie giggles and squirms onto her back to wrap me up in a hug. "You were making those sexy noises in your throat. Where'd I jump you this time?"

"This is what I get for telling you about them in the first place," I gripe with no venom and press my nose in behind her ear. Sighing, I answer the question, because she'll get it out of me anyway. "The car."

"Ah yes," Jamie chortles. "Your sexy GTO. Bet there's a story behind that monster, hmm?" Kisses and renewed hormones are distracting for a moment; the girl makes me crazier than I've ever been, before she picks up the theme once more. "So, is it a fantasy that I can play in too?"

"Full tilt down a back road with you straddling my lap? I'm not sure I'd like that one in real life." I could kick myself for my flippancy as she shudders in memory of the car accident that left her half machine and her unborn child dead. "I'm sorry, Jamie," I whisper against her temple, stroking her bare skin in comfort now.

"Thanks," she says simply, clinging to me as anchor for a long moment before sighing gustily. "Good spot to be the doc again, huh?"

Casting a look down our nakedly entwined bodies, I grin wryly at her. "I think my take on you is less than completely professional, Sommers."

That gets a sincere laugh and the morbid moment passes easily.

"Y'know, I might have to find access to one of those testing machines, where they run cars on those huge rollers," I muse thoughtfully, aware of her wide grin. "Get that engine screaming and find out what I can do to you trapped up against the steering wheel."

"Mmm, sounds good to me. Now, come here."

++ Jamie ++

This should be fun.

Grinning with menacing sweetness at Jonas, I twist the knife a bit more. "I'm fully aware of your investment, Jonas. After all you remind me every chance you get. You want your money's worth. I want to not be treated like some kind of mindless object."

This is the closest I've seen him to losing it, his temper swirling beneath the impassive façade.

"You've been hanging around Sarah Corvus too much," he finally mutters sourly and I actually have to laugh.

"I'm not going to argue that Sarah is a two-edged sword. Fortunately, one that's on my side for now."

Groaning, actually showing that much of his irritation and frustration, Jonas leans forward and puts his hands over his face, scowling through his fingers. "Fine. We'll do it your way. Again. I really don't like this crap."

"Then you can only imagine how the hell I feel."

There's a pause at my flat tone and something in his eases. Settling back into his chair, the man eyes me contemplatively. "Everything I can do I will, to keep your sister safe. I can't make any guarantees, but I will keep a small team on her when Sarah's not. Sarah is negotiated through you. You are negotiated through Ruth. Anything else?"

"I'm worried about our five year warranty." The statement might sound flippant, but my tone is anything but. "Any luck on that front?"

Something that might be actual regret softens his face for a moment. "You'll be the first to know."

Honestly, it's more of an answer than I expected and we share a strangely empathetic moment. Then the phone buzzes and his secretary speaks from the device. "Ruth to see you, Jonas."

"Send her in."

Now he's smug and I'm a bit worried. Ruth is as calm and collected as always, silently reassuring my frayed nerves. Jonas reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an envelope to wave it lazily.

"Ruth, rather than actually acknowledge this letter, how about a change in assignment?"

Beside me, Ruth stiffens imperceptibly and my bionic ear can hear the faint stressful catch in her breathing. "I'm listening."

"Jamie here has informed me," a faint smile ghosts over my face at his sarcasm, "that her contracts are to go through you. Care to be a handler again?"

For a brief moment, she holds her breath and I force myself not to look over and disturb this negotiation.

"Go on."

"Jamie and Sarah go through you. Frankly, the only reason you haven't been more involved in their training is that I need you on intelligence. But if that's not what you'll do anymore, I'll have to shuffle personnel, won't I?" Standing, Jonas comes around the desk and Ruth turns to face him, her back to me. When Jonas speaks again, it's the most intimate tone I've heard from him yet. "Look, we go way back and I don't want to lose you. They need you, obviously, and I'm at a loss for a better solution. You're one of the best, if not the best, big-picture operatives in this business and you just might be the key to keeping them sane and productive."

I'm a little surprised when Ruth half turns to give me a long look, something vulnerable in her hazel eyes. My smile is authentic, our only intimacy in this public place. Nodding, she turns once more to Jonas, offering her hand.

"It's a deal."

++ Ruth ++

"Nice digs, doc," is a typical Sarah response to our new company housing. The Sommers sisters are far more effusive, moving through the space like curious cats. Since I've been here already, supervising the converted warehouse, I know it inside and out, but I'm enjoying it all over again through their eyes. The lower floors are almost completely open for working out and parking cars, while the massive second story has been made into extensive living space.

Each room has been carefully designed with the occupant in mind. A pair of soothing zen-like spaces for the two bionics and a suite for Becca that includes her own office/studio and bathroom. I figure that the extensive space will encourage compliance, study and enough independence to keep her sane. Fifteen is a tough age and she's been through an awful lot.

The master suite, my indulgence because I could, is on the complete opposite side of the building for privacy. My things are already moved and mostly sorted and the public areas of the building are stocked and ready to accommodate the four of us.

"You didn't tell me I had my own room," Jamie smiles in the doorway, lounging against the frame indolently. Pushing away from her perch, preening under my gaze, she strides over to loosely wrap me in a hug.

"I wanted everybody to have their own space. Keeps tempers and stress to a minimum," I smile faintly, nuzzling her face lovingly.

"Hmmm," Jamie hums happily, kissing the corner of my mouth. "As long as you don't expect me to sleep there much. Hey, you got a new bed!"

Now I'm smiling and push her away to gesture at the thing. "Yep. Try it. I bought it with you in mind." It's a real delight to watch the woman flop down and light up with delight.

"It's one of those memory foam things, isn't it?"

"Yes. There's one in every room. We can store yours and Becca's beds downstairs in a corner for if you need them again. These are comfortable and therapeutic."

Standing, Jamie grabs me again and I enjoy a long kiss. "Thanks doc," she purrs in a voice that's anything but businesslike and I'm suddenly eager to break in the new mattress.

But the Sommers' girls things have arrived and the evening turns late as we get Becca settled in enough that she can get back to school in the morning with a minimum of hassle. Pizza and soda is the order of the night and we retreat to our respective rooms.

Well, Jamie doesn't retreat for long, coming to me with silk pajamas and a mouth tasting of spearmint toothpaste and her own unique flavor. With the thick walls I insisted on and the sprawling distance between us and the roommates, I can finally let my defenses down for the first time since Sarah showed up in my kitchen carrying Becca's unconscious body.

Jamie goes to great lengths to make me respond to her lovemaking with noisy enthusiasm and winded but eager, I return the favor. Once again, she does impossible things to my ego, soothes away my stresses of my nearly forty-two years. Exhaustion and the sexual satiation that makes me such a different woman eventually melts us down, sweaty and cozy in the sheets and blankets.

"Good to know the mattress'll hold up," Jamie murmurs in my ear, making me chuckle and shift until I'm completely comfortable against her strong, curvy body, our legs intertwined. "G'nite, Ruth." Her hands curl around my neck and skull and I bask in the embrace.

"Night, Jamie…"

That night I dream of what might be reality soon enough. Myself, once more in the thick of the business, no longer on my pedestal of information found, borrowed or stolen. Flanking me like a pair of impossibly dangerous guard dogs, light and dark, are my bionic charges. We make an intimidating and awe-inspiring sight, no one foolish enough to underestimate what we three are capable of. It's a real thrill to have their power at my beck and call, but also a reminder to be careful and vigilant of the responsibility.

Snapping awake, I'm completely floored to find myself in my bed, wedged up between their two bodies. Atop the covers, fully dressed, Sarah has her back curled along my body, Jamie tight up behind me.

"I couldn’t handle being alone," Sarah whispers defensively, her body tensing in response to my surprise. I feel for her, I do, and wiggle my right arm from beneath the covers to gently touch her head, smoothing the pale hair.

"You can stay."

When Jamie stirs, embracing me more fully beneath the bedding, she doesn’t even pause at her counterpart's presence. It's a strange bonding moment that moves me as both young women relax once more into sleep, cradling me safely between them.

Family is what you make it.

I think I finally believe that.


	3. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can love and a slap to the head reset a bionic ear and a love affair on the ropes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: For a whole mess of episodes. Honestly, I couldn't even tell you which ones; except for references to Tom the CIA dork and resetting Jamie's bionic ear with a slap to the head.
> 
> Notes: Like the first two stories in what has become a triumvirate, this tale came from an image in my head. The final scene is it; you'll know it when you see it. The scene it whatever episode it was where Nathan is trying to figure out why Jamie's ear is on the fritz and solves the problem by smacking her in the back of the head cracks me up and was one of my inspirations. This wasn't supposed to get so angsty, but I guess it couldn't be helped.
> 
> Special thanks to geekgrrllurking for her December 13th post http://community.livejournal.com/passion_perfect/309153.html where she mentions that the 15th is Molly Price's (Ruth's actress) birthday. That was the perfect push the muses needed!

++ Jamie ++

I can't help but feel that this is my fault somehow.

Ever since Tom Hastings, CIA, walked into my life, things have gone to shit. My pack watches me furtively, warily, their hurt and confusion lighting their different colored eyes.

God, even Sarah looks disturbed with her expression not unlike a twisted parody of a confused cartoon dog. My sister thinks I'm a complete idiot and I'm in agreement, even if I won't 'fess up to it.

But it's Ruth that has me so twisted up inside that I literally can barely function. Yes, I was attracted to Tom, I can't deny that. Even going so far as to go to him as he packed up his artificial life at the university because his cover was blown. Yes, we kissed, yes, I considered more.

Yes, I am an idiot.

Looking over at Ruth, so still and pale in the sterile recovery room, I feel the agony in every cell, every neuron, my body burning and humming with it. I hurt her like a clumsy fool and I've been paying like a religious penitent ever since.

I knew there had to be a chance to eventually break through the icy, protective armor she pulled up like a cold war iron curtain between us. I would scratch at her emotional door, grovel and apologize until she listened and stopped treating me as no more than a bionic police dog.

Then the mission, a seemingly simple affair, went so utterly, completely, devastatingly wrong.

It didn’t take a bionic ear to pick out the sound of the bullet finding its target with the wet crunch of bone, its retort echoing in the night air. Sarah reacted before I could, blurring into motion to stop the hail of bullets, even as Ruth's body was spun and flung aside like a child's doll, thrown in childish petulance, blood spraying in all directions.

Even now, I can smell it, fresh and coppery as I screamed in denial of what I witnessed. Even now, I can smell it, dried and putrefying on my clothes and skin, but I will not leave her side and no one can make me.

Somehow, Sarah and I got back here with Ruth's body in tow, reluctantly handing her over to the bionic technicians to do their best.

It's been a long twenty-two hours.

They did their best to fix her and she's still breathing steadily, anthracites donated from both me and Sarah working away in the fragile confines of her warm body.

"Please let it be enough," I moan helplessly to myself for what must be the thousandth time.

++ Ruth ++

It is a very distinctive sensation, coming out of heavy sedation. Like a light switch being flicked on inside my brain, bringing me back to the world. There is no sensation of time having passed, though I realize immediately that something is terribly wrong.

I've been in a very dangerous business for a very long time. I've been shot at, beaten, nearly raped, thrown from moving cars, fallen from helicopters and had my life otherwise threatened in innumerable ways. I can recognize a medical facility by smell alone, and this one is no different than all the others. But this time something is much different.

There is a buzz in my body that I don't recognize. As different from the familiar sensations of my body functioning as light is to sound, I blearily study it.

It's no use. I haven't a clue… until a thought occurs to me in conjunction to the equipment making noises that I have rejoined the land of the living.

I work for a company that builds micro-bionics.

Crap.

There was a shot ringing from the darkness as I tried to watch Sarah and Jamie's six, the impact into my skull like a rock thrown by a jet engine.

Then, darkness.

Opening my eyes is surprisingly easy, my pupils instantly retracting in the bright glare. I can't move my skull and the entire left side is numb from the ocular cavity out, but everything else seems to be working.

My scowl brings the technicians up short, none of them familiar in their encompassing sterile garb. They make noises to try and stop Jamie from shoving through them, but it's like a bulldozer in a grove of saplings.

"Ruth," she sobs, her voice stuttering around my name as she crumples and presses her head to my chest. "I was so scared…"

Yes, I'm still wounded from her fleeting near-affair with that CIA boy, but her emotions are so raw that I can't help but respond to her. The lustrous dark tresses that I love are tangled and dirty, catching at my caressing hand and all of the smells clinging to her are magnified by the sterile environment. Bet that's my blood all over her, sprayed like a horror movie special effect.

"Jamie," I whisper, voice hoarse and dry. "Help me up."

Once more ignoring the technicians, she does as ordered and once more I marvel at how… decent I feel. Actually, aside from the disturbing numbness on the side of my skull, I feel pretty great. Something of that must show on my face, because Jamie's mask of torture is changing, lightening into her natural beauty, her astonishing eyes alight with relief and happiness.

"You're okay," she marvels softly, bringing my body close to hers, my feet dangling off the gurney. "You're really okay."

Tilting the heavily bandaged left side of my head away, I rest it on Jamie's shoulder and soak up her body heat. Since I'm here in the recovery theater, I'm going to hazard a guess that the damage to my skull was pretty bad. The fact that there is complete silence there is reinforcing that thought. Not even my heartbeat and lungs echo in my ear.

As though in response to my internal musings, Jamie clears her throat roughly and speaks in a tone not much smoother. "You were shot in the head. Me and Sarah got you back here and donated some anthracites to speed up your recovery. The tech-heads did their best to replace your ear. I hope it worked."

I suppose that I should be more shocked and horrified, but what right do I have?

"Just the ear?"

"Just the ear," Jamie reassures me with words and her loving touch.

"Jamie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry that I've been such a bitch lately." Life is too damn short to hold onto my irritation over the CIA pup. There's no denying that I feel powerfully for this young woman and I just need to accept that. "I forgive you for Tom."

Her squeeze is strong, but so very carefully controlled to protect from her unnatural strength.

++ Jamie ++

Relief like water pours over me at her calm voice, thrumming with emotion just beneath the surface. I'm determined to not burst into hysterical tears or something equally girly, but it's not easy. Stress and lack of sleep and the horrible smells wafting off me are grinding down my shredded self-control.

This, of course, is when Jonas makes his appearance.

"Ruth," he intones softly, his voice flat, professional, and just a bit warm with relief to see her up and aware. "Good to see you recovering."

"Jonas," she replies in an identical tone, making me smile perversely. "Good to be in the land of the living." Then she turns her focus to me, the near-yellow eyes intense and hot. "Jamie, go clean up and let Jonas debrief me. Then, I'm all yours." The admission of some sort of bond that is more than professional shocks me, but not nearly as much as her hand, tugging me down close enough for her mouth to press a loving kiss right between my eyebrows.

It's a pretty tame PDA, but this is Ruth! Drinking in the touch of her mouth and hand on my skin, I nod, not trusting my voice right now. Giving her a squeeze, I force myself to walk away, not meeting Jonas' knowing gaze.

Stripping with disgusted eagerness, I retreat to the locker room showers and scrub with desperation driving me. I will never forget the feel and smell of Ruth's splattered blood. The fact that it is finally physically gone means nothing to my traumatized mind and heart.

Somehow I keep it together through my shower, getting dressed in clean clothes, retrieving Ruth and all the way home. A completely silent Sarah picks us up at the facility and shuttles us and I cling to Ruth's warm hand. She tells me that Jonas was annoyed that she insisted on going home, but caved in as usual. I can't even enjoy her story, to emotionally raw to do anything but cling to my sanity by its tattered threads.

At the warehouse that is home now, Becca too is silent, merely hugging all three of us tightly and retreating with Sarah to the far end of the building.

Only when the bedroom door clicks shut, do I let it out.

++ Ruth ++

It must be a dream, because none of these things happened to me. Memory fragments of people and places and circumstances that I simply have no knowledge of. They almost feel like… memories… but not mine.

Deep in slumber, I startle to realize that these are the memories of the two women that I now share bionics and anthracites with.

Blinking awake, I'm not surprised to hear the door click shut almost soundlessly. The usual spot where Sarah sometimes lies on the bed is still warm, the bedding holding the indent of her body. I would have never thought that having Sarah Corvus as a guardian angel could be a good thing. Now, it's difficult to imagine her not around me.

And then, there is my lover.

Unlike the majority of mornings, Jamie is clinging to my front, wrapped around me like a bad cold. There is no cuddly spooning today, just a desperate clutch. Luckily I sleep on the left and can roll to my side, earning a grumbling protest from Jamie at the jostling. So, I kiss her face and stroke my hand down her slender body, coveting her heat and softness.

"Jame," I purr her shortened name, which I only do here in the privacy of our bedroom. "Wake up sexy."

Mumbling, Jamie hugs me tighter and I grin and press kisses to her face and trail my hand more heavily over her silky flesh. My brush with death and the obvious terror it threw my lover into requires bonding now. Feeling shockingly good after doing the tango with death, I lick and nibble at Jamie's throat and my disarrayed hair tickles her cheek.

"Ruuuuth," she whines even as her breath hitches into a sexy moan as I find that spot near her ear. Always responsive, Jamie lolls her head back to give me access and passively allows me to roll her to her back so that I can sprawl out atop her and really give that elegant neck some attention. Holding her wrists is a psychological effect, for we're both perfectly aware that she could toss me across the room if she desired.

That strange energy still buzzes in my body. It has to be the anthracites and the alterations they've wrought. Part of me cringes at the idea of the changes made to me while I battled death, but more of me is grateful for this new chance. Not to mention the new levels of empathy with my charges.

Kissing and touching, Jamie and I bond, bursting into giggles at one point before easing into a loving cuddle where I can listen to her steady heartbeat. That leaves Jamie to ever so gently rest her hand on my heavily bandaged ear. Ironically, the bionic right hand. "Any pain?" she asks softly.

"No, oddly enough." I hadn't even realized until now that I have almost full sensation on the left side of my head, which is sensitive and bit achy, but nothing serious.

"Good. I didn't feel any either. Guess that's a necessary function of the bugs. God, I hope they didn't shave the side of your head."

I feel the pressure of Jamie's hand plucking at the wrap, determined to free my damaged skin. "They're going to be pissed that you're uncovering the surgical site," I remark wryly, sounding far calmer than I really am. To my amusement, Jamie snorts and doesn't pause in what she's doing.

The tape pulls at my skin and cool air wafts beneath, making me shiver.

"The bullet ricocheted off your skull," Jamie comments flatly, but I feel the tremor in her body. "You were lucky. Hey, look at that, you've still got an ear." Her voice is now pleased and a little teasing. "Even if it's a little raggedy looking."

"Hey," I protest with no venom and bite at her shoulder. "That's a terrible thing to say to a lady."

The teasing stops with the exquisite feel of her gentle fingertips on my damaged skin. It's ultra-sensitive, a little painful and unbearably sexy, her touch where I'm so raw. "Dammit, they did take off about two inches behind your ear. You're going to have a hell of a daring haircut for awhile, Ruth."

There is still no input from that ear, just deafening silence, but right now I don't care. Up on my elbows, I stare down into the azure eyes of my lover, her guileless honesty shining brightly there. "Talk to me later, Jame," I growl in sincere need. "Right now, I need you."

++ Jamie ++

Well, a girl can hardly resist a plea like that! I take a moment to resettle my left hand, so that my palm cradles her cheek, but my fingertips can still curl around her ear to stroke. Obviously, she likes it, the yellowed eyes fluttering and a guttural moan thrilling me. With my right hand cupped around her undamaged ear, I tug her close, but not as close as she'd like. With slit eyes and heavy breath, Ruth must obey my greater strength as I hold her skull immobile, our lips barely brushing.

I don't dominate Ruth much. It offends her rigid sense of control. She's already very open with me in private and there doesn't seem to be much reason to push that and possibly piss her off. Sometimes though, I think that she likes being pried out of her mental armor and made far more naked than just her bare skin.

For an endless moment, we hover like that, sharing breath. I stare intently into her hooded gaze, once more imprinting her on my soul, once more reassuring myself that she is, indeed, alive and well. Then she groans my name, low and soft, the kind of sound an animal makes when it shows its belly in submissive trust. I wisely reward her with sensuous, fleeting kisses, licking at her mouth teasingly.

After she's started to squirm, I gently tug her down, releasing my imprisoning hold on her skull and settling into a long, wet kiss. Never breaking that contact, I cradle her head and roll us over so that I can have free access to her body.

It would probably shock the bionic think tank how much I let their high-tech toys play into my skills as a lover. Oh, not the arm or the legs, but the sensitivity of the eye and most of all, the ear. It is trained now to monitor my normally quiet lover, the pitch of her small sounds, the rush of air in her lungs, the throb of that strong heartbeat.

The antiseptic smell still clings faintly to Ruth's skin and I do my best to ignore it as I trace my mouth and mane down her throat and chest, pausing at all my favorite spots. Her fingers are almost punishingly tight in my hair, but I ignore her grip. This is my chance to draw out the seduction, to give her one more reason to be glad to be alive.

How I love watch her in the throes of passion, unencumbered by her rigid control. Face to face with her once more, I let my hand do the talking and watch the mercurial eyes grow paler and paler and her pupils contract with the rising sexual tension in her body. At last Ruth shudders, grunting and whining with the riot of pleasure I've drawn out.

"Oh Jame," she moans as relaxation washes over her like a wave and I happily snuggle into her overheated body. Today we are alive and we are together.

That makes it a good day.

++ Ruth ++

"Jesus Nathan," I gripe at our resident tech geek as he continues to peer at diagnostics and the probe he has inserted into my new and still silent ear. "What the hell did you do, install transistors into my head?"

Jamie smirks and stifles a laugh as Nathan gives me a dry look and deadpans, "ha, ha, very funny Ruth. Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor and a sign of a small mind."

"Good. You understand it then."

Now, Jamie does snort around her laughter, going so far as to put a hand over her mouth and turn away to where Sarah hovers like a nervous cat. It's not a surprise, considering what she's been through at this facility, some of it at my own hand.

A sharp and extremely painful shriek of electronic feedback blasts through my skull like a lightning bolt. Even as the white-out clears, I know the feel of Jamie's arms around me, the comforting sound of her voice. "Ride it out, Ruth, just breathe. Focus on my voice, make it obey you."

It's an interesting choice of words and I focus on the sensation of that thankfully brief blast of sound. It's an almost physical awareness of the technology in my head, like my nerves can actually identify the space it now possesses. Gripping Jamie's shirt and elbow, I focus my entire will to that flicker that threatens to attack me once more.

"Focus," Jamie whispers again. "I'm right here. Listen to my heartbeat, the sound of my breath."

In this she is my mentor and teacher and I do as I'm told, desperately seeking out the rhythm of her heart.

Nothing happens and I'm getting disheartened.

Then… then a thread of sound and I latch onto it desperately. Jamie's breathing, steady and grounding near that new ear, the heat and damp of it as good a focus as the sound. I don't dare make a noise and disturb this new experience.

"Almost got it?"

"Almost," I dare whisper, feeling the sound skitter away from me and cringing at the loss. I've lived with complete silence on that side for nearly two days now and the bionics should have kicked in by now. I might be deaf for good and that will eliminate me in my role as the girl's handler.

Then I startle as Jamie slaps me soundly on the back of the head, making me jerk back and snap at her, "what the hell was that for?"

The blue eyes stare intently into mine. "Did it work?"

For a long moment I can't comprehend what she means… until I realize that sound is filtering through in stereo. Relief paints the faces of Nathan and Sarah and my lover as my expression changes to wonder. I can hear their heartbeats and the faint sounds of the complex beyond the airlock doors of the lab.

Then I narrow my eyes at Jamie. "You slapped me."

Shrugging, she smiles and smoothes that same hand over my crown in caress. "Blame Nathan and his transistors. The electronics obviously needed a jolt to get started up or make their final connections, or whatever has been holding them back."

Adoring of her sweetly pragmatic explanation and Nathan's gurgle of outrage, I smile at my lover, happy to be fully functional once more. "Why does that always work?"


	4. Living the Dream, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long working vacation brings out facets of our odd couple, cementing a bond neither ever expected and both need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for this being a one off… (It's all your fault, Ralst! Really, somehow it must be.) Most of the smut came from conversations with a friend whom I flirt with outrageously. This whole damn thing is really just a bunch of fantasies strung together with a loose plot at best. But Ruth and Jamie have earned a load of raunchy smut from me, so I was happy to oblige.
> 
> Several fantasies of these two crack me up, particularly Jamie's thing with disheveled Ruth. Though it makes perfect sense when you think about how… together Ruth always is. People with lovers like that love to get them sloppy and sexy. Wouldn't you?
> 
> When the TPTB at NBC used that blue 1972 GTO on episode 'Paradise Lost' for all of five odd minutes of screen time, bet nobody thought it would become such fetish material, eh? The weird thing is, I'm so NOT a car person. Never know it by reading this saga though! (It's your fault, Kitten. Thank you.)
> 
> After literally HOURS of research, trying to narrow down automotive industry terminology that I know NOTHING about… I finally figured out what the piece of shop equipment I needed is. *heavy sigh* It's called a 'chassis dynamometer'. It's a set of big metal rollers that a car's drive tires are parked on and the vehicle is securely strapped into position. The engine is run and the rollers gauge how fast the wheels start and stop. Wikipedia here if you're really bored: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dynamometer#Types_of_dynamometers . (All that work… I hope you people appreciate my attention to detail! I even called an old buddy who's a classic car nut to verify that a GTO would be rear-wheel driven. The things I do for love…)
> 
> Special thanks to Ardvari for her inspirations and everyone who cheered these two on.

++ Ruth ++

"You've wanted a vacation anyway," Jonas says flatly, his expression characteristically never twitching. "From what I've been told, every hip community needs a gay couple. You'll be great."

For a moment I stare impassively at this man who I've played right hand to for many years, searching for the subtle glints of emotion that are so difficult to read. Then I see it, the faintest sparkle of humor in his dark eyes.

"You're enjoying this."

My dry accusation actually makes his serious mouth twitch. Without changing my own expression, I deliver my final shot before we really get down to business.

"Bastard."

Jonas actually huffs in amusement.

++ Jamie ++

This is new.

When I was drafted into this strange life, I knew it would read like a movie at times, but this is threatening to make me crack up slightly hysterically.

Not a good way to make an impression on the neighbors.

Ruth is directing the moving men with body language far tenser than her even voice indicates. It's so weird to see her dressed like this, blue jeans and a pink blouse with her normally severe haircut loose around her face. I must look like a lost college student in my baggy sweater and khakis.

Several locals have wandered past with dogs and kids or in small groups, obviously curious. How long do I let them wonder about the two new women who have moved into their midst? I don't want any doubt to our relationship. Nor do I relish being shunned by suburbia.

But my first priority is my partner. And, frankly, I'm tired of these idiots in coveralls ogling one or both of us. So, I drop the box unceremoniously back into the newly repainted GTO and sneak up behind Ruth.

++ Ruth ++

The familiar arms around my waist startle me a bit. The damn bionic ear still seems to have a mind of its own and I have to keep conscious control over it. Even I can't be completely focused all the time.

"Hey baby," she purrs against that new ear where she's very aware of the hotspot that has not faded. "You okay?"

The rush of hormones makes my eyes flutter shut and I place my hands over her encircling arms. Better the curious neighbors catch us cuddling now and stop wondering what exactly we're about. Turning my head, I press my nose to her temple and exhale my nervousness into her hair. For a long moment I stay like this, selfishly leaving Jamie to face the first round of odd looks. These guys are on the job, but half of them are locals too. Even the two undercover Burkett guys I bet are startled a bit.

Jamie and I have made no secret of our relationship, but it's still odd to some of them. When I look around again, after kissing Jamie's ear, my guys look away, smothering smirks. Jae in particular is amused. He's posing as our buddy from the big city as this will enable him to visit whenever he pleases.

That makes all of us feel better.

++ Jamie ++

We've been busting ass for more than twelve hours and I'm exhausted. Tough as I might be, this has tapped me out. This town is almost creepy in its unrelenting normalcy. Several of the neighbors even introduced themselves to us, determined to be friendly. Nothing at all seems amiss.

Various operatives have been passing through this town in different disguises for months now. Dangerous illegal contraband moves through here and no one can figure out how. Jonas is banking that the bionics are immune to whatever is going on here.

Ruth startles me from my near-doze when she appears in the hallway leading back to the bedrooms. "You look dead," she comments wryly and strides over to straddle my lap, hands combing my long hair. "Come break in the shower with me and then I'll see if I can get the kinks out."

"Not all of the kinks I hope," I drawl wryly and she chuckles before kissing me lightly. Lazily, I drape my arms around her and nibble at her mouth, asking for more.

++ Ruth ++

Lazy with hard work and sound sleep, my muscles stretch in the warm sunlight, my hand slithering over Jamie's familiar body beside me. She'd amused me greatly last night, whining about being tired while I still had a few flagging energy reserves. Even now I hold her compliment close to my heart.

"Don't you even complain about being old, you brat," she'd scowled at me petulantly. "Fifty million dollars of sci-fi body hardware and well into the double digits younger than you and I still can't keep up."

Not a classic comment from one lover to another, but I know that she meant it. The shower had been a lazy affair, much kissing and caressing, with me able to indulge in soaping her lovely skin and tending to her long mane.

A low moan and the shift of Jamie's sleeping body is a beacon I don't even try to resist, rolling to cuddle our lower halves close and trailing a friendly hand over her torso and arm.

++ Jamie ++

Go figure that not only can the woman outlast me; she's awake before I am too. Not that I'm complaining about her loving touch over my bare skin. Particularly when she notes the subtle change that signals my wakefulness and her caresses become more deliberate.

"Good morning," Ruth purrs as I stretch and roll onto my back in one motion, yawning expressively before smiling. I wrap both arms around her, raising my left leg so that she can snuggle her pelvis against mine.

"Good morning," I echo, wallowing in the brush of her hand over my curves. "I like these lazy mornings with you."

"Me too. Now, you were tired but anxious last night," Ruth teases her breath and touch over my skin and my hormones start singing. "Still feeling anxious?"

My responses to her have ranged over a spectrum that amazes me. Every emotion has rocked my body and soul from anger to hot to curious to slow to tender. Right now, I just want her desperately and whine for her mercy.

Chuckling warmly, Ruth finds that spot where neck meets shoulder, worrying at my flesh with lips and teeth while her talented fingers get busy at softer and more vulnerable spots that make me moan and cling to her.

The doorbell is not a welcome sound.

++ Ruth ++

It's been a long few days in Raleigh, Colorado. The community has made a mostly concerted effort to welcome us both, despite our being female and the obvious age gap between us. After all, we're big city folk and that gives us license to be so very different. Jamie's already in with some of the locals in one of the three restaurants in town and I've scored a job that both amuses me and gives me a window to a life I could have led.

Filthy from the elbows down, wrapped in a ragged set of coveralls that seem to be covered in decades of grease and dirt, my hair beneath an incongruously clean and new baseball cap. The wrench is heavy and sticky with grime, but finally does its job and the stubborn nut gives up the fight with a pop.

Mike is the hardened old veteran that owns the only real mechanic shop in town. The condition of my beloved muscle car and the honest brag that I keep it up myself got me here. While Mike and his boys work on the modern cars with their intricate computer systems and fancy hardware, I get to indulge in my love of the simple elegance of the cars of yore. There are six of them in various states of repair in one corner of the sprawling lot and I'm pretty much left to my own devices.

++ Jamie ++

When I met Ruth, I had no way of knowing that we'd end up lovers. I once didn't see any of the things that make her so complicated and fascinating. Her control and focus and dedication, wrapped up in a cool, enticing package. She is always elegant, always meticulous and well-dressed and in command of a situation.

Well, almost always, I remind myself with a naughty smile, remembering our varied love life that has been completely subverted by the locals determined to fit us into their lives. I love that they want to include us, but I really miss privacy with my lover.

Watching Ruth, I hate to disturb her, even as my hormones simmer urgently. Ever since that morning where I was left hanging at the edge of orgasm by that damn doorbell, I've wanted to jump her. But we're always tired and our schedules have been off. Mostly this is the fault of my working crazy early shifts at the bakery where I've scored a job and Ruth putting in long hours with the grease monkeys.

She looks positively calm and delighted in what she's doing; completely different than that woman I normally work with. She's filthy and sweaty and humming happily to herself. God, I need her so bad…

++ Ruth ++

"Hey sexy," Jamie purrs from nearby, startling me into looking around. She's perched herself on the radiator of the beat up Charger, smiling seductively. She looks so different dressed like this, in a dark blue 60s retro waitress uniform, hair pulled into a careful bun.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," I grin, hoping the guys aren't paying too much attention to me or my visitor. I have no desire to stand out among them more than my age and gender does already. Not that every male and a chunk of the women haven't taken notice of Jamie and her good looks and easy charm. Just inches from her body, an imperiously raised hand stops me in my tracks.

"Give me a kiss, but don't touch me, grease monkey," she wrinkles her nose at me and I can't stop the laughter that bubbles up from deep in my chest.

"God, we're like some cliché sixties couple, aren't we?"

"Shut up, Ruth, and kiss me."

With no body contact except our mouths, I feel the urgency in Jamie, enhanced by the low murmurs of need in her throat. "So help me," she growls against my lips, "if you don't come home early tonight and fuck me, I'm going to implode or possibly throttle someone. I like these people, but I need some alone time with you."

++ Jamie ++

Ruth is thrilled and turned on by my rough plea, my voice deep and harsh with the itch that I need her to scratch. Those mercurial eyes, like a barometer of her mood, turn a hot yellow and my body's sexual reaction is not at all feigned. That look makes me crazy, all the more so because she can't hide it or stop it.

The sharp crack of a knuckle startles me, making me realize that I've automatically tuned all my senses to her, bionic and original. Forcing my eyes down, I see that her fingers are twisted into a filthy rag hard enough to whiten her flesh in places. Not to mention the clinging droplets of sweat on her throat and clavicles, visible in the 'v' of the coveralls and above the tank top.

"I gotta go," squeaks out past my tight throat and I steal a quick kiss before practically running away. At the open gate, I dare to glance back.

Ruth looks bewildered and completely smug at my behavior, which amuses and reassures me. Let her think I'm the better catch.

I have my own opinions.

++ Ruth ++

It's easy for me to read Mike, despite his stony countenance, and his amusement is thick as I inform him that I'm leaving early to go home.

"Gotta keep the missus happy," he drawls with a small grin and I toss my comeback over my shoulder.

"You're just jealous."

"Naw. But the boys sure are."

Each of the three younger men is suddenly deeply involved in their tasks, unable to meet my eyes. At this moment, knowing the reception I'm in for, I can afford to be smug and magnanimous by simply walking away.

The GTO growls across town and into the garage of our house. Even though I scrubbed off at the yard, I repeat the process, including a wet, soapy rag over most of my torso before running the small towel under the water from the utility sink and getting the soap off. Without bothering with a bra, I yank on a clean tank top over my damp skin.

++ Jamie ++

She's home.

The relief is a palpable thing and I automatically turn my attention inward, mentally tracing the lines of wires in my head to the recording device in my bionic eye. A wrenching blast of pain later and it's disabled so that I can have privacy with my lover.

The house is nearly spotless, having been the recipient of my anxious energy for several days now. Becca would be amused as hell to see me like this, so wound up that I'm forced to clean of all things. At the moment I'm out in the sunlight, only just starting to fade into evening. There are planting beds that I decided to take on for their few weeds and unpruned branches.

Before I can do more than note that I'm sweaty and dusted with soil, Ruth frames herself in the sliding glass doorway and I can feel the heat of her gaze from all the way over here.

Obviously, extreme horniness has eliminated any ability to be intelligent because all I can do is stand here and stare.

++ Ruth ++

I know how intelligent this young woman is. After all, I profiled her long before I knew her first hand. It's a source of great amusement to me that she has been reduced to such idiocy by her hormones. If she's trying to feed my ego in hopes of relief, it's working in spades and I aggressively stride over to wrap her up in a hug and kiss that makes both of us completely forget that we're in our backyard with neighbors all around.

Jamie allows me to prod her back beneath the cover of the small grove of pine trees in the corner of the main planting bed away from the pool. The 'whuff' that escapes her as I back her up against the largest trunk is weak around her elevated breathing.

"Grab that branch," I growl hotly, grinding her pelvis into mine until she whimpers. There's no need to ask which hand I mean and the bionic right is immediately anchored to the heavy wood. No need to ask for trouble during this quickie. Roughly yanking up her t-shirt, I bite and suckle at her erect nipples through the fabric of her sports bra, skimming my hands over her slender frame. Already Jamie's hips rock against mine and I worm a hand down her shorts to find her wet and welcoming.

++ Jamie ++

The woman is psychic, I swear she is.

Rough and demanding, she has me pinned up against the big pine, her hand down my shorts, fingers deep and fulfilling. We'll have time later for sweet and lingering. Right now, this is exactly what I need.

Carefully gathering up a mouthful of the strap on her shirt, I clench my teeth tight, trying to muffle the grunts of lust tickling my throat. With her thigh against her hand, Ruth pistons into the grip of my sex, breathing like a steam engine against my ear. All I can do is take hold of the shorter lengths of hair at her nape and hang on for dear life.

It bears down on me like a freight train I can't outrace, no matter how fast I can run now. Every muscle tenses, my heels digging hard into the soft earth to make sure that I don't lose complete control. The branch above my head creaks in protest to my bionic hand damaging its sturdy tissues.

"Come for me," Ruth breathes and the rush comes over me blinding and fast.

++ Ruth ++

Pleasantly exhausted by the marathon session that started in the backyard, I'm now sprawled on our bed, air drying from the second shower of the night. The lethargy is complete, leaving me pretty well boneless from crown to toes. Jamie is preening in front of the bathroom mirror, just visible to my grateful eye.

"So, I got a package today," she announces suddenly and saunters back into the room with her loose-limbed stride.

"Oh?"

"It's one of the reasons I was so worked up this afternoon."

Now I'm curious and cup my hands behind my head to smile cockily at her. "Do tell."

With frisky, youthful energy, Jamie shakes the bed jumping on and straddling my hips. Snuggling into my slightly sturdier frame, she indulges the sensation of our naked skins together. After a moment she props herself on both elbows, damp hair trailing over my chest and regards me with a sweet expression. "You know I love what you do to me, right?"

++ Jamie ++

This is going to be a strange conversation and I really hope that the buzz of satisfaction has softened Ruth up.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she smiles and the expression reaches deep into her eyes, nearly green with relaxed satisfaction. "You have something in mind we haven't tried?"

She's a freakin' mind reader, I swear she is. "Yeah. I had an idea, but I don't want you to think I'm being weird or I'm lacking with you or anything."

With a surprised grunt, I'm flat on my back with her sprawled over me. "You're babbling, Jamie. Spit it out."

"I ordered a sex toy."

Yep, that was my voice that blurted that out and embarrassed heat is rushing up my torso to my cheeks. For a moment Ruth is startled, before laughing openly. Almost immediately, she is kissing me, still chuckling low in her chest. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

++ Ruth ++

This girl-woman of mine is a crack up sometimes. I can only wonder if it's been her own embarrassment or the fear of telling me that's making her so flushed. No point in missing the opportunity to stew in her own juices a bit, so I nip and suckle at her neck a bit. Once she's getting into it, I prop myself up on my elbows to eye her with some warped version of my 'work face' that makes her chortle.

"So, are you going to share with the rest of the class? Or shall I just extrapolate on my own?"

Still chuckling, Jamie once again asserts her strength and I'm on my back once more. "You sure?"

Despite her amusement, she's unsure, I can tell. So I give her an askance look and question, "It's not something weird is it?" The dark tresses shake negative. "Well, that's good, can't have anything too bizarre in our bed. After all, we're so amazingly normal and all."

The snappy patter succeeds and Jamie smiles, her nerves abating and I arch up to kiss her quickly.

"Whatever doubts about us I once harbored," my voice is very serious, even to my own ears. "You have eliminated them. Bring out your toy, pretty girl, and let's see more of what turns you on."

++ Jamie ++

My Ruth is an eloquent woman, but generally one of few words. When she does spell things out for me, I keep the words close to my heart. Particularly like this, the lover speaking so sweetly to me. She makes me feel special and normal and adored, things that so many take for granted.

So, I forgo thought for long moments, once more losing myself in her talented kisses. Despite the half dozen times we've scored the brass ring this night and the early morning hour, once more our breathing deepens, hands wandering heavy and arousing.

"Sure you're up for this, old lady?" I tease, mouths still brushing and jump and squeak when she swats me stingingly across the ass.

"You just bring it on, pup."

Still nervous, but getting more excited now, I lunge over to gather up the clean towel where the toy has been hiding and hand it over.

++ Ruth ++

It's an odd looking thing, a phallic sculpture in electric purple silicone. Taking it from her hands, I eyeball the stylized shape of the thing and can't help but think that some designer somewhere had way too much fun with their CAD programs. The longer arm is obviously phallic, but the other is really interesting. It thickens, then narrows drastically, bends at a ninety-odd degree angle and flares into a fat, bean-shaped bulb.

(Author's note: Curious? Go check out said toy! http://www.goodvibes.com/Item--i-13BA16--m-80 Isn't it pretty?)

Then Jamie's hair is tickling over my chest and I feel her mouth on my midriff, suckling seductively. "Take your time," she purrs throatily against my flesh, tickling pleasantly and I have to chuckle. "I saw it on a website and couldn't pass it up."

"You've gone shopping?" I can't help but tease, even as I set the toy aside and bury my fingers in her lustrous hair to rub her scalp.

"Your hands are always busy when you're fucking me," she confesses baldly, blue eyes blazing as she stares up my torso. "I thought this might be a nice twist."

Twitching my knees further apart to accommodate her body, I swear I'm more limber now than I was when I was her age; I grin and tweak her lower lip. "Relax, pretty girl. I'm convinced. I'm yours to do with as you please."

++ Jamie ++

The relationship doesn't have to be a meeting of equals. Honestly, I'm generally happy to be somewhat subservient to this powerful personality. That Ruth treats me as an equal, unless she has to occasionally slap me down at work, but that's different, makes me feel amazing.

Tickling at that soft, warm spot between Ruth's thighs that I've grown to love, I'm reassured that she's not yanking my chain. Breath catching, she tightens her grip in my hair and her eyelashes flutter. Excellent!

Climbing back up Ruth's body, I leave my tickling hand where it is and once more kiss her thoroughly. "So, I have you curious, huh?" I tease conversationally and the yellowed eyes glower with mock seriousness, making me chortle. Stroking deeper, I have her now, moaning softly, her body starting to writhe. "Grab it," I demand, getting distractedly aroused myself now. "And the little tube of lube with it."

"Okay," she grunts breathlessly and I'm damn glad once again that I'm not working later today!

++ Ruth ++

With aggressive teeth, Jamie tears the tip of the fat little packet that I found in the folds of the towel, squeezing a dollop of the clear gel onto the fingertips she pulls away from my body. It takes a real effort not to whine at the loss of her touch, but the look in her eye is good enough for the moment.

The gel is rubbed to the bulbous end of the toy, still clenched in my hand, and I'm starting to confirm how this is going to work. Tugging on my hand, Jamie breathes hot and fast against my mouth, "Give a girl a hand?"

It's an easy fit, sliding inside, the fat base of the phallic end nestling into my clitoris. Experimentally, I clench internal muscles to get the feel of it. "Your turn," I groan as the toy jostles internally at Jamie's fumbling. "Come on already!"

"Gimmie a second!" She growls and suddenly shifts away enough that I can see what she's doing.

++ Jamie ++

There is the oddest expression on Ruth's face as I run my lube-sloppy hand over the electric purple phallus jutting up from the curly gold pubes. I'm looking forward to this more and more, particularly with that stark, hungry look on my lover's face. Huffing with excitement, I sit up on my knees and trail my slick fingers through the dark curls at my groin in preparation.

There's a wordless sound of lust as I toss a leg over her hips and aim the new toy right where I need it. My long, stuttered groan that echoes up from deep inside is not feigned as the silicone shaft sinks deep.

"Oh Ruth…"

Even as I shiver from the long-forgotten sensation of this deeper penetration, I feel the blissful slide of Ruth's hands over the insides of my thighs and over my tense abdomen.

++ Ruth ++

She is impossibly sexy, muscles tense, head back, that long, low note of desire escaping her on a shuddering breath. If I might have been harboring issues over her want for the false Johnson between us, her sincere reaction alleviates any worry.

For the moment I am content to let Jamie set the pace. The mass of the bed and my strong pelvis should protect me if she loses focus over the legs momentarily and she's trained herself to keep that right hand clenched into the bedding and mattress. These memory foam things have proven to be remarkably durable.

Muscles real and replaced flex to shift Jamie's body on the phallus and I'm torn between the sensations in my own body and watching her. Moaning my name, she arches over me, dark hair trailing and tickling, breath hot over my chin. Taking advantage of the freedom of my hands, I stroke her ribs and hips, skittering up to find those hard nipples I love to tease.

++ Jamie ++

I'm unspeakably gratified that Ruth is into the game. The toy serves only two purposes and she's already got one down, strong, sensitive hands stroking my skin. The second is simple depth. The woman's got magic hands, but there's been an itch we just haven't been able to scratch. What I really want is her whole hand…

Just the thought is enough to bring on climax, the roar rushing up my nerves and turning my senses to static.

Still holding Ruth and the toy hostage with my stronger body, I feel some of the tension is gone. Certainly not all of it, but Ruth is still tense too, so I'll catch my breath and find out what else this thing can do.

What I really want is her whole hand, but I don't trust myself to maintain control enough not to damage her irreparably. Maybe my smart lover can think of something.

Because the idea and the thrill aren't going away.

++ Ruth ++

Exhausted and possibly a bit delirious, I'm still unable to sleep, even as morning is well underway. I haven't more than catnapped all night, I'm sore with lack of sleep and I've been completely fucked senseless. Since I'm not really on a schedule with the shop, I'm playing hooky today. Frankly, I'm quite certain that Mike would kick my ass if I showed up, since Jamie's visit yesterday left nothing to the imagination…

The light of the rising dawn caresses my young lover, revealing the quickly fading marks that I left dusky on her skin. She heals so impossibly fast, the anthracites repairing any damages, small or large. It's a reminder of what sets her apart from the rest of humanity.

Gingerly, I reach up to rub the nap of bristles that have grown in irregularly over the place where the bionic techs prodded through the cracks in my skull and replaced the biological mechanisms of my ruined ear. The locals have accepted the story of a car accident with appropriate levels of horrified sympathy. Except for Mike, who I suspect with some degree of consternation, knows more than he lets on. The roadmap of scars in my skin and skull are still sensitive almost to the point of pain, but Jamie has remembered with delightful frequency how that spot makes me weak in the knees. Her breath alone is a live wire to my libido, not to mention her tongue…

++ Jamie ++

It's the familiar sound of Ruth's that wakes me before the press of her body to my back; an amorous, almost distressed huff of breath that is close to a moan. Like a mood ring to her libido, that sound is a dead ringer to her need. Never would have guessed calm and cool Doctor Truewell to be an insatiable tiger in bed, but she is exactly that. Guess there's some truth to the old adage of never trust the quiet ones.

Nuzzling into my scalp, Ruth breathes into my hair, her free arm snaking around my waist as she spoons to my back. So I reach back to stroke her head, paying close attention to that scarred patch and the patchwork quilt of the shell of her ear. We've discussed at length how the ears work, hers compared to mine. Despite my mixed feelings over Will, he certainly knew what the hell he was doing with the bionics he co-created. On the contrary, Ruth's ear is erratic and causes her annoyance. She confessed to me that first night as we cuddled back at home after the shooting that she uses my body's sounds to focus the thing.

There is great pleasure in knowing that I am something so visceral for her.


	5. Living the Dream, part 2

++ Ruth ++

The summer is passing lazily.

I have grown to like this life. Quiet and comfortable without that constant edge of danger that my profession keeps me alert with. Jamie and me have made friends and gained a social foothold in the community, even though we still maintain as much distance as we can.

With varying levels of success.

At the moment, I'm happily ensconced in my favorite corner of the covered porch where I can enjoy the heat of the sunshine without scorching my fair skin. I get enough of that at the yard, thank you very much. I'm half-heartedly catching up with intel from Burkett on the laptop and nursing a mildly spiked lemonade. We've missed two smuggling shipments already and the failure irks me. The first was simply not having a clue of where to look, but the second might be attributed to our comfort levels. Jonas didn't flat out say it during our last conference call, but the rebuke was hidden in his tone.

Our time here will draw to a close sooner than either of us wants.

++ Jamie ++

Ruth looks pensive and lost in thought. Damn, this is obviously a bad day for me to invite Beth and Chuck over to use the pool. My coworkers at the bakery are good people and I like the utter normalcy of their company. The most threatening thing about them is Chuck's harmless crush on me.

"Hey," I greet my lover softly and she forces a smile for my sake. "Sorry about the company. I should have called ahead. How's the Charger coming along?"

"Good to have you home. I see that their begging finally made you cave in," Ruth teases dryly and I'm glad to see that her smirk is laced with authentic mirth. "The Charger is giving me fits, the nasty rust trap."

The old '64 Charger has been giving my lover hell for a week now and it's annoying her almost as much as the missed shipment of smuggled micro-electronics. Luckily for me, she's still a sucker for my sweetest kisses and I lose myself in her mouth for long moments.

++ Ruth ++

Once again, Jamie has made me feel better with her unrelenting adoration. The sting of failure falls away as I drink in her sweet, deep kisses. Some perverse part of me knows that her pals are watching and it gives me an odd thrill. Particularly the stupidly jealous part of me that acknowledges that boy's crush.

"Join us?" Jamie asks gently and I shake my head regretfully.

"Homework," is my simple reply and I see that she understands the significant look accompanying the word.

"Ah," she nods sagely and kisses my nose before straightening up. "Well, don't get too caught up. I have plans for you later."

The cheeky thing makes me chuckle as she sashays away.

++ Jamie ++

We're cleaning up from dinner, finally alone after a long afternoon with company. "I talked with Becca today."

"How's she doing?"

"Still keeping Sarah in line from the sounds of it. Jonas must be impressed because if I read her veiled hints correctly, she's been allowed access to Will's research."

The startled look from Ruth is not at all feigned. The tidbit of news, passed on in my sister's calmest voice, shocked me too. But she's really smart and quite brilliant with computers. Good on Jonas for recognizing that.

"Hmmm," Ruth muses wordlessly and I have to smile.

"We'll have to go visit soon. I miss them."

Immediately, the dishes are forgotten as she wraps me in a strong hug. "Me too, Jamie. Me too."

++ Ruth ++

It happens suddenly, almost accidentally. Weeks of lousy sleep as we carefully comb the nocturnal quiet of our sleepy burg lead to scant clues. But it's the foolishness of youth that finally cracks it. Turns out young Chris at the garage is one of the couriers.

Figures this has been happening under my nose.

Once I know to watch the boy, it's easy to trace the progression of personnel that are moving the contraband. Then, there are a few quiet phone calls and some discreet raids that destroy the network nearly back to its origins. The head of the snake will be a different mission than ours. In fact, Jamie and I spend the night at home as though nothing at all were untoward. There's tension between us at being left out and neither of us sleeps well.

But Jamie won't allow me to pull away, holding me close in the bed while we both stew in silence.

++ Jamie ++

It's a tense morning, but we still exchange sweet kisses in the black early-morning. Honestly, it could go further, Ruth's hands growing heavier on my back and head, her kisses more demanding. "I have to go," I murmur against her mouth, hating to leave after our stressful night and several weeks of crappy sleep that has made us tense and irritable.

"I know," she whispers back, but I can hear the tremor of vulnerability beneath the strength and it jerks my heartstrings. "Be safe."

"I will, I promise. You be safe too."

"I will."

In the doorway, I pause to look back where my lover, my partner, my handler lies tangled in the sheets, watching me with shadowed eyes.

"I love you."

The words are out before I can censor them as I have for months and I still retreat like a coward to the false part of my life in this place.

++ Ruth ++

Stunned by Jamie's whispered endearment, heard so clearly by the bionic ear in my skull, I lie in the darkness and stare at the ceiling. My emotions are a roller-coaster that leaves me faintly nauseous. Curling up tightly on my side, I wonder if I should have gone after her, even as the sounds of her cute little Saturn have long since faded.

Tangled with all of my Jamie emotions is the conflict of this damn case.

When the alarm jerks me awake several hours later, I'm shocked that I slept at all, much less so soundly. In the light of dawn, I examine my feelings with more honesty than expected and realize something obvious and life-changing.

Despite a life of solitude, despite the boundaries of our professional lives and all the dangers therein, despite it all…

I love her too.

++ Jamie ++

I've been an automaton all damn morning. Stupid with lack of sleep and completely distracted, almost distraught, at my confession to Ruth, I'm running with an autopilot that I don't really have the skills for.

Eventually that leads me to a disaster that is a messy collision with Chuck that breaks every dish we're carrying in spectacular fashion. Both of us stammering apologies in the sudden quiet, we kneel to clean up and I'm shocked by familiar and completely unexpected hands reaching to help.

"Ruth?" I question softly, caught up in the look in her eye. Something burns there, a freed wildfire that I've never witnessed before. Hooking a hand around my neck, Ruth drags me close for a toe-curling kiss, right there in front of the late breakfast crowd.

"I love you too," she whispers softly, her voice hoarse with emotion.

The day is suddenly perfect.

++ Ruth ++

Shaken by my weird morning, I attack the Charger with ruthless determination. I'm terrified and exhilarated by my confession of adoration. Shaken by Chris's disappearance in the hands of the FBI, the garage has been quiet and my solitude out back unbroken.

Well, for a couple of hours anyway.

Mike looks sober and exhausted as he appears beside me, habitually wiping at the grease that is as much a part of him as his skin. "Knew that boy would get himself into trouble," he says quietly and we eye each other for a long moment. There are no more words, but a silent wealth of understanding that I find strangely reassuring. "Hope things get back to normal around here now. Nobody ought to be here that doesn't want to be here. Community's important, you know?"

As he walks back towards the garage without a backwards glance, I find myself murmuring softly, "I know."

++ Jamie ++

I haven't figured out what it is about Ruth the mechanic that turns me into such a slut for her. The messy state she gets into? The happiness in her eyes that comes from refurbishing these old cars she loves? Perhaps it's the concentration and dedication to something so safe and ordinary? Or the way she struts around like some cinema bad boy, sweaty and laden down with grease and tools.

Whatever the reasons, I really, really like her like this.

Mike pauses where he's walking back across the yard in the back, his gaze heavy across the cluttered space. The guy is way more observant than any hick mechanic has any right to be. I feel Ruth's stare on me as well, but hold Mike's eyes, only a glitter beneath the brim of his cap. Then he nods decisively and continues on his way. Somehow, I feel as though I've been given some sort of approval and it makes me smile faintly.

++ Ruth ++

With a faint, knowing smile, that beautiful young woman struts over to me. Even now, I'm blown away that she's mine. Once more I'm a jittery mess over the exchange of adoration from this morning, not at all helped when Jamie curls her hands into the short hairs at the back of my head and kisses me senseless.

There are moments in a person's life that remain forever imprinted on our souls. Good or bad, they stay with us in vivid detail for all our lives. The first night Jamie came to me is one of those memories. This soul kiss is on the list now too.

In time, I come back to myself, released from the loving, sensual place that my lover has led me to, blinking in startled pleasure. "Wow," I whisper hoarsely, unsurprised to hear my voice actually crack. Gentle fingers stroke my face, Jamie still smiling luminously, while the bionic hand continues to caress the short hairs at the base of my skull.

++ Jamie ++

It's sweet to see Ruth pleasantly bamboozled like this, all her rigid self-control stripped away to reveal the loving and warm woman beneath.

"I just wanted to do that," I grin, rubbing our noses together. Soon, we'll need to have a serious discussion about our feelings, but now is not the time. For the now, I'll just have us bask in this. Then I realize that her hands have slid over the small of my back, the left sagging dangerously low on my ass. Squealing with outrage, I leap away, growling, "dammit! You and your grease monkey paws!"

After a startled moment, Ruth chuckles before dissolving into gales of laughter.

++ Ruth ++

In an adorably feminine huff over the small grease stains I accidentally put on her uniform, Jamie flounces off with a teasing smile that eliminates any chance that I might have taken her seriously. Tonight will be a hell of an experience, I bet! Some part of me acknowledges that she goes into the main garage instead of the side gate where she's snuck in and out before.

I don't think anything of it, too high on emotion to care.

Perhaps it's my mood, but the work goes quickly and easily this day, the normally stubborn Charger giving me a much-needed break. The body is nearly fully repaired, the rust painstakingly ground away, her engine is out and deep in the process of rehab and the extensive rewiring is showing real progress.

At five o clock, I return to my GTO and head for home. I'll miss this place and all that's happened here. Waving to my friendly neighbors going about their normal business, watching out for kids and dogs as I drive, I examine my feelings of approaching loss.

My re-acquaintance with love has made me contemplative.

++ Jamie ++

There's always been a bit of a charge in hearing the garage door rumble open, alerting me to Ruth's coming home. Excusing myself, I head for the door leading to the garage, beating her to it, leaning my weight up against the hard surface, preventing her entrance.

"Hey," she smiles, the expression reaching deep into those pale, pale eyes. Silenced by the depth of my adoration for her, I wrap her in a strong hug, breathing in the scents of her, wallowing in her touch. "Missed you."

"Oh Ruth," I breathe into the sweaty blonde hair, "me too."

I really shouldn't under these circumstances, but I can't resist, nuzzling at the trailing edges of her ragged mane, following the scent of her hard work where it lingers on her skin. Ruth thinks I'm weird, I know, but I really like the lingering scent and taste of her healthy sweat where she misses it cleaning up.

++ Ruth ++

Well, seems I'm not even going to get into the house before we get started tonight! Fine by me. It takes some sweet making out against the door to pick up on Jamie's stress and I immediately slow. Leaning back, our bodies still intertwined, I hold the restless blue eyes.

"What is it, Love?"

The endearment gets a flicker of surprise and the sweetest shy smile, her hug just strong enough to make me nervous. Face pressed to my throat, she breathes deeply for a long moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Jonas is here."

Somehow, I'm not surprised. After all, I should have known that our real lives would now catch up with us. I'm also not at all taken aback by how reluctant I feel to walk through that door.

++ Jamie ++

Both of us linger in silence for far longer than we should, mentally preparing to face Jonas together. This is going to be harder than I thought.

A long, slow breath and a subtle shift in Ruth's body is proof that it's time. But she gently grabs my chin as I lean away, holding my eyes. The doctor mask is back, but I am more gratified than I can verbalize to see the warmth of my lover peeking out of the calm hazel eyes. "You and me, together," she murmurs softly, caressing my lower lip with her thumb and I settle.

"Together," I echo just as quietly, drawing strength from her, from us.

The work body language and their ultra-calm tones aren't quite so jarring now. Ruth takes a few minutes to wash up as is her custom after a day in the yard. That gunk she gets covered in doesn't come off easily.

++ Ruth ++

It's not cowardice exactly that sends me off to the kitchen to keep one of my rituals in this house. The murmur of voices carries faintly over the rush of hot water as the little stiff brush scrubs away the grease and crap that lingers in the wrinkles of my hands and beneath my wrecked nails. The narrow bands of hard keratin grown beyond my flesh are ragged and need trimming. So I slip off to the bedroom for clippers and an emery board before taking a deep breath and returning to the boss.

Ignoring the knowing gaze, I get down to business. To my surprise, Jamie silently takes the little grooming tools and my left hand to bend intently to that task. I can feel the tremors in her hand, cradling mine, and give her fingers a faint squeeze. It's an odd intimacy, this act with an audience, as the couple times she's groomed my nails has been a precursor to some wild sex.

Jonas' faint smirk of amusement tells me that my expression isn't as deadpan as I'd have liked.

++ Jamie ++

Having something useful to do while my superiors talk is calming to my nerves. My ears can follow the conversation separately from this task. Ruth has elegant hands and I can feel the changes wrought to them over all these weeks of hard labor. Snip the ragged edges of the nail off, rasp the emery board to smooth the shape perfectly, use the blunt tip to clear away any debris that might linger in the little crevice between her nail and fingertip.

Some time passes this way.

I finish before they do, politely excusing myself to go make dinner. It's not as though I need to be in the room to follow the conversation after all…

When I hand Jonas a plate of garlic chicken pasta, his look of surprise goes to great lengths to ease my shock at being dragged out of this life that I have grown to enjoy.

++ Ruth ++

He was strangely… gentle for lack of a better word. Even as we talked business, the three of us shared a meal and an odd intimacy. It was refreshing and fleeting.

We have two weeks here. An 'emergency' for our alternative selves will come up and we will go in a rush of activity, leaving this house and this life behind. The delay is to distance us from the arrests and alleviate any suspicions.

The working vacation will be over soon.

Jamie and I are curled up on the couch in quiet contemplation. We're in the same position as we have been since Jonas left when Jamie plopped down sideways beside me and leaned her torso into mine. I cradle her close, my nose in the dark hair and her hands on my arm.

++ Jamie ++

Suddenly, the inactivity is too much. We'll both think ourselves into not sleeping tonight if we don't find some outlet. In a flurry of activity, I lightly slap Ruth's arm and jump to my feet.

"Let's go jogging."

We enjoy the dry summer air and soak up the calming vibes of this slice of normal life. Slowly, Ruth's stress bleeds away into the exercise and we make it all the way to the park before it grows fully dark. There is a pee wee baseball game going on and we lean on the short fence and cheer the small kids on for a few minutes before heading back.

At the halfway mark, Ruth falls back and I stop, turning to give her my attention. Her loving grin reassures me that the grounding normalcy of this after the shock of our real lives being thrust on us has worked.

We walk the rest of the way, hand in hand.

++ Ruth ++

It's late on Friday and I'm both anxious and reluctant to leave the yard. On Tuesday, the 'emergency' phone call will come and we will be gone in a rush of activity. But I have left my mark here and that makes me feel good.

Four of the six old cars are gone, fixed and off to paint and back to their owners or into proper storage. The Charger is nearly finished and I feel a thrill of pride every time I look at the beast. The Corvette will be close enough to complete that the boys can do it themselves.

How I will miss this.

Sighing, I carefully put everything away as is my custom. The outside yard is drastically different than when I arrived. It's organized and there are canopies protecting the primary work and storage areas. Frankly, I got tired of sunburns.

The shop is eerily quiet when I go in to wash up, but I don't really think about it. After all it's a Friday evening.

"Wash up good," Jamie voice is totally unexpected and I whirl, actually dropping the soap in shock.

++ Jamie ++

Oh yeah, the hassle of this is paying off nicely. Honestly, I don't know that I've ever seen this particular look of shock on Ruth's face. I've draped myself in the doorway of the washroom and my outfit is completely out of place here. I worked hard on this outfit and debated for weeks exactly what it would entail. Thankfully, a giggling Beth helped out, including an all day shopping excursion just Wednesday that pulled it all together.

"You like?" I ask unnecessarily and Ruth blinks back to attention. Preening, I pirouette and soak up the carnal look in my lover's eyes. "Wash up," I remind her and step into the room while she absently does so. "I brought your nail brush and that soap from home."

"You did," she murmurs blankly and now I feel positively smug. As hoped, I have reduced my lover to stupidity with the seduction headed her way.

++ Ruth ++

I have been rendered idiotic by this sweet woman. Wrapped in a silky blouse, flowing skirt and delicate high heels, she looks like a high-powered executive or the like. The makeup is impeccable and her legs have that unmistakable look of expensive hose.

Good god… what am I in for?

"There's a change of clothes for you," Jamie instructs calmly before grinning wickedly. "Don't clean up too much. You know I like you sweaty and a little dirty."

And then sashays out of the room.

Shaken, I ruthlessly scrub my hands until they are squeaky clean and step into the deeper recesses of the washroom to see what else she's planned. Something is definitely up, because this is by far the cleanest this room has been since I've arrived. There are good reasons I do the bulk of my cleaning up back at the house. Stripping down, I mop off in the sink a bit and go for the neatly folded pile of clothing Jamie left for me. Which is basically the clean version of exactly what I was just wearing…

And I start to figure out where this is going.

++ Jamie ++

Helping Mike to set this up has provided me with the answer to not one, but potentially two of my personal fantasies. All is ready for my lover and me; now I just need her out here.

Ruffled and coarse in the working clothes that she has worn this entire time undercover, I allow myself for the first time to really give in to the thrill it gives me to see her like this. Tousled, messy blonde hair, the ribbed tank top, the blue coveralls with the top half knotted around her slim waist, the heavy, filthy engineer's boots…

"Mike helped me set this up," I explain quietly, resisting the urge to jump on her right here. Then I flick the switch next to my hand and light floods the main work area of the garage. Ruth's eyes round once more as I gesture grandly to the elaborate setup. "I know that there's no way to fulfill that car fantasy of yours, but this is the next best thing."

++ Ruth ++

After all of these years, I had thought my shock value as being fairly low. Then again, I had never planned on Jamie Sommers.

My GTO, my pride and joy, is on the chassis dynamometer, strapped securely in place, the front wheels heavily blocked. I get it now. This is my fantasy of fucking her senseless in my lap while the engine roars. Just the idea gets me hot and bothered. And the outfit makes sense now, because I realize how hot and bothered my mechanic self gets Jamie.

Well then!

Jamie doesn't object when I stride over to grab in a hug and kiss her silly, messing up her carefully applied makeup. "Take you for a ride?" I can't help but leer and she laughs.

++ Jamie ++

This is working out perfectly, Ruth's enthusiasm bubbling over as even this watered-down version of her fantasy starts to play out. Smacking the lights back out again, I playfully shove her at the GTO and head over to the passenger side. Light bleeds in from the office areas, casting the shop into mysterious dimness and adding to the mood.

There's a lull once the doors slam shut and I touch Ruth's arm. "The exhaust is being vented through a hose outdoors, the doors are locked and the car is strapped down tight. Start her up."

Blowing out a nervous breath, the sound stuttering as I press close to nuzzle her ear, Ruth reaches down and cranks the key, bringing the big muscle car to life. The roar echoes through the confined space, shuddering through the frame like a racehorse straining to be released.

Her hair is soft and warm when I tease my fingers into the strands, tracing my other hand up her knee and thigh. "You're safe up to two hundred miles per hour and the tank is full. Show me what this baby can do."

The transmission clunks as Ruth shifts the car into drive and the engine revs up just like our libidos.

++ Ruth ++

After the first few nerve-wracking seconds of stepping on the accelerator, I feel no unusual sensations in the car. The wheels are spinning against the big metal rollers of the dynamometer as they're supposed to. Now, I can get into the fantasy a bit better with the car in drive and some gas making it rumble enticingly. A car in neutral and a car in drive are very different animals, no matter how much gas you give it.

Eyes slit in pleasure at Jamie's attention, I start to get lost in the scene she's prepared. The darkness surrounds us completely and automatically flicking on the headlights reveals a great black tarp strung up in front of the car. Perfect. Dark backwoods road, my lover beside me, amorous and wanting…

"Jamie," I groan and she sidles closer with a breathless chuckle.

"I need you, baby," she growls, shifting to reach down and grab the lever that makes my seat slide back. My hands eagerly help her straddle my body, my foot pressing more heavily on the accelerator, the GTO snarling in response. Reality and fantasy start to blur as we kiss and the car howls and strains at her tethers.

++ Jamie ++

It's better than I thought I would be, the pulse of the engine in the frame of the car, translated up to our twined bodies. Ruth growls at me, urgent now, as though we really are in danger in this 'moving' vehicle and that sensation is making her a little crazy.

Delighted, I happily do my damnest to encourage her in this headspace, grinding down into her lap and whimpering needily. Her hands and kisses are rough and demanding, tugging at my clothes and I wiggle around to let her yank at my skirt, thankful I thought to have Mike disengage the horn. Yes, the steering wheel digs into my kidneys and back and ass, but I couldn't give a shit less.

There's nothing under the skirt but garters, which pleases Ruth, the familiar sexy sounds rising in her throat. When she fumbles at the buttons to my shirt, I growl at her to just tear the damn thing off. It's a randy, wild fuck, bruising me up and making me scream for it before I can worm a shaking hand down the front of Ruth's coveralls to return the favor.

++ Ruth ++

The fantasy is dizzying, my brain plugged into the scene completely, the climax racing across my nerves fast and hard. Writhing like a cat in heat, Jamie brings me home and my foot slips off of the accelerator.

The reduction of the sound and vibration is a harsh drop, mitigated by the hot, shadowed gaze of my lover.

"Care to reacquaint us with the backseat good lookin'?" she purrs and I have to chuckle in breathless delight. So begins a giggling wrestling match to get Jamie extricated from the steering wheel and I duck away as she clambers over the front bench. So I kill the engine and follow, sinking into the haven of her body, both of us cradled by the big back seat.

"That was wonderful," I hum into her naked chest, feeling the bunched-up material of my tank top crushed between us.

++ Jamie ++

Ruth has always had a good sex drive and tonight I have really uncorked her. It takes only a bit of coaxing to get her straddled high on my ribs so I can wrestle the disheveled coveralls low on her hips. Then I can watch her face as I worm both hands deep into the scorching space between us, the yellowed eyes drifting almost closed as I fondle her.

She is so open, so accessible, so relaxed. The hassle of setting this up has been worth it as I knew it would be. Huffing with the pressure of her need, Ruth is beautiful as she hunches up, manages to press her open mouth to my forehead.

"Love you," I murmur, disengaging my right hand and stroking the lines of her body in encouragement. "You are so sexy."

The soft encouragement and my touch will get her there in time. Until then, I'm happy with the ride!

++ Ruth ++

Friday night; an uncomfortable but wonderful night cumulated with Jamie testing one of the lifts with her enhanced strength while I fucked her to screaming. I'll pick the car up tomorrow after Mike reconnects the horn. Saturday; spent in bed and poking through our things to establish whether or not we'll keep anything. Today; reacquainting ourselves with our neighbors, friends and the surrounds we've both grown to love. In the red sunset, we stroll leisurely and take it all in.

"This has been great," I comment softly and Jamie gives my hand a squeeze, humming wordlessly in agreement.

"I wanted normalcy," she pipes up thoughtfully as we pause to admire one of the views, turning her expressive eyes to me. "I wanted it because I missed it." There is a gravity to this young woman now and I am grateful to have been a part of it. "Now, this all seems like a long vacation. Honestly, as long as I'm with you, I couldn't care less where I am."

And I am moved beyond words by her once again.

++ Jamie ++

The 'emergency phone call' plan goes into effect Monday night, leaving Ruth and I to make our harried calls to coworkers and friends. By afternoon, we've hurriedly packed what we're taking and left the rest for professional packers. On a very public plane to San Francisco, I rest with my head on my lover's shoulder, silently watching as she types on her laptop and settles the Burkett mantle about herself once again.

The carefully stylized hair, monochromatic corporate clothes and chunky silver jewelry are a strangely welcome sight, as is the gentle smile she graces me with periodically. No matter the props, we are still together in all senses of the word. I'm ecstatic to be going home to Becca and find out what the hell I've missed in the last nearly two months, as well as checking on Sarah.

Life will move on but, giving Ruth's knee a squeeze and sharing a smile with her, we'll always have Raleigh.


	6. Wet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to their normal lives once more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!! This is an incomplete chapter! It's only here because there are some great bits in it. Sorry to disappoint!

++ Ruth ++

"Becca's done a damn good job with you," I remark idly as I trail comforting, searching hands over Sarah's cheek and forehead to ensure that she's healing normally. Already the gouges in her skin are closing as the anthracites scramble to repair the damage.

"She's strangely grounding," Sarah remarks calmly and I'm very careful to not show any shift in emotion that might scare her back into her shell. Having a stable family, or 'pack' as the Sommers girls insist on, has done wonders for the most unstable of the four of us. Though lately, one would hardly know that this is the once insane and dangerously unpredictable Sarah Corvus.

Her accusations of being hacked were right.

Becca figured it out and roped Nathan into a three week R&D marathon that led to some modifications that has left Sarah with a peacefulness to her that nearly brings me to tears some days. This mission has been sublime, both of my bionic agents in top form, competent, fast and dangerous, the trio of us in complete sync.

Grumbling, Jamie finally steps out of the bathroom in nothing but one of my tank tops and a pair of skimpy panties. The sight makes me grin and Sarah to roll her eyes. "I should have kicked that idiot one more time for good measure," the youngest of us complains to the ragged bundle of cloth in her hands. "I really liked this shirt."

There are times when Jamie's age show through very clearly. "Get over it, fashionista," Sarah sasses sarcastically and hisses when I find a spongy spot just above her eye.

"Broken?" I enquire, tenderly circling the spot to calm her nerves.

"Ouch. Might be, but I've had worse. Why on earth do you not dress her properly for missions?"

Now I have to huff in amusement at the bantering, tweaking Sarah's nose and leaving her be for now. Since Nathan's ability to piggy-back into her bionics is erratic at best, I've taken it onto myself to monitor Sarah as best I can. And not just the replacement parts, but the scarred soul as well. Smacking Jamie on the ass to make her jump and squawk, Sarah vanishes into the bathroom to clean up.

"She's a brat," Jamie pouts and this time I laugh openly and gesture her to come over.

"I won't argue. But it's a nice change, isn't it?"

"Compared to her trying to kill me or just fuck with my mind? Quite."

With a practiced move, I strip off the tank top and rake my eyes over Jamie's svelte frame. Knowing that I will not be dissuaded from this examination after each mission, Jamie stands quietly and turns around when I gesture. They allow me the bossiness because it's in their best interests. That, and if they get petulant about it, I simply threaten them with letting Nathan do it.

++ Jamie ++

It is an endless source of sweet amusement to me that Ruth is never quite as businesslike about these examinations as she'd like to be. Still, it's a necessary evil that I certainly have no problem with. That sharp hazel gaze, like a hunting hawk of some sort, flows over my bared skin, searching out for any flaws. Soon, she'll be satisfied and I'll get cuddled, so I can hardly complain.

"You did a damn good job this time," Ruth notes idly as she runs a couple of fingers over the bruises fading down my back. I don't fight the shiver of awareness that her familiar touch causes. "Hardly a mark on you."

"I only do it for your benefit," I can't help but sass and fire a smirk over my shoulder. Her quirk of a smile warms me and I'm waved off to climb into my pajamas. The two blondes switch places so that Ruth can clean up as well and I fiddle with our gear so that it's ready to go in the morning. This strike mission included full military-grade riot gear and the sturdy materials are sobering.

"It's actually sort of a relief that you're not callous to it," Sarah's voice chimes up suddenly in the quiet. Pulling away from where I've been stroking the curve of a helmet, I flop down beside her on the king-sized bed and sigh.

"Can't see how I ever would."

"Good."

This is Sarah's way of checking in on my mental state and, I think, vice-versa. Our check-balance system is very different from Ruth's, but it keeps us functioning as a team. Strengths and weaknesses have been evolving over time and we've settled into quite a dangerous trio. Sarah's competence and contained violence, my superior hardware and more cerebral approach, both of us reined in and tempered by Ruth's experience and seemingly endless knowledge.

By the time Ruth flicks off the main lights and pads to the big bed, we've already settled in, warming the covers as is our custom. Sarah on the right, atop the covers, because she never seems to get cold; and me cuddled beneath the bedding, waiting for the press of my lover's body. I toss the covers away, making them settle temporarily over Sarah, who grumbles with no malice, and Ruth carefully climbs over me to lie between us. Now I can relax fully, at least physically, with Ruth spooned up behind me, arm curled up my torso and her breath warm on my neck.

Uncharacteristically, it's Sarah that's restless and squirmy tonight and Ruth finally sighs at her. "Sarah, if that contusion is bothering you, roll over and lay against my back. I'm not going to bite."

I smile sleepily when the bed shakes as Sarah does as invited, the weight of her hand tentatively coming to rest atop my ribs. Another barrier has been broken down in my scarred counterpart.

++ Ruth ++

Half-asleep, I habitually note my surroundings even as clarity settles. There's no obvious threat, just the intimate press of my charges against my body. This is certainly the cuddliest Sarah's ever been. Her breath is hot and even against my shoulder blade, her muscular body heavy and limp in sleep where she presses me into Jamie's slender frame. Jamie has rolled to her back and I'm draped all over her, our limbs intertwined.

Some part of me wonders at my utter lack of fear, tangled among their powerful bionics. At times, it feels as though I'm sleeping with a pair of full grown Siberian tigers, beautiful and hugely powerful, able to crush me with a swipe of a paw. But they allow me to keep their chains, temper their strength with my seriousness and experience. The trust is mutual and I feel no fear.

Sleep returns easily.

Later, I'm woken by Jamie's kiss on my temple, her hand gentle on my shoulder. "Hey sleepy, we're running short on time for our flight. Come have some breakfast."

Drowsy and overly warm in the stuffy hotel room, I do as bidden, accepting the bowl of oatmeal and mug of tea Sarah pushes under my nose without looking up from the paper she's reading intently. The girls laughingly nag me as I quickly dress and toss the last of my things into my laptop case and we're out of here.

It's an uneventful flight where I bury myself in work and the pups try to keep themselves occupied. They do a decent job for the most part, but at one point I have to loop an arm around Sarah's neck and calm her with my touch. Jamie taunts her quietly, earning a punch that would cripple or possibly kill any other person. I merely stroke her ear until Sarah relaxes, resting her chin on my encircling elbow. Something she does earns Jamie's happy laugh and I smile where I'm caught up in my work on the small computer.

In the Burkut car that collects us, the girls continue to banter, but at least refrain from physically horsing around. There aren't many places where they can indulge without endangering people or property. I think the stone-faced driver actually cracks a smile several times at their bored antics.

Sometimes they really are like puppies.

++ Jamie ++

"Jesus," Sarah exclaims as we pull into the bottom floor of the warehouse that we all call home. "What the hell happened?"

The ground floor looks like a bomb has gone off, scattering building debris over every square inch of the massive space. As Ruth climbs from the GTO, she makes a disgusted noise at the mess. "How much space do these idiot contractors need, anyway?"

Knowing that a contractor would be doing work while we've been gone and seeing the actual chaos are two wildly different things. When I finish disentangling myself from the backseat, Ruth's expression has gone calculating, annoyed and even a bit evil. It's actually really hot to see her looking all Cruella DeVille like this, but I swallow my hormonal reaction.

"Tomorrow, I'll come down here and roll some heads," she comments calmly at the chaos and grabs her satchel to head for the stairs. "And if that doesn't work, I'll sic you on them, Sarah."

Both of us bionics cackle as we collect the luggage and follow her.

It's a tough call which blonde looks more startled at hurricane Becca pouncing on them on the stairs with a shrieking squeal. "You're home!" Laughing, I step up to wrap them up from behind to make the group hug a proper dogpile. "It's been too quiet without you guys. Well, not quiet exactly, with all this going on down here, but you know what I mean."

Kissing my sister's forehead in the small space between the blonde heads, I push the pile and we finally all make it upstairs safely. Each of us gets a proper hug from my teenaged sister, even Ruth, as taken aback as she always is by the odd friendship with the youngest among us. There is hot chocolate waiting for us, courtesy of Becca, and after we drop off our bags, we get caught up in gossip and bonding for an hour or so. Amusingly, it's Sarah that yawns first, prompting first me and then Becca to follow suit.

"Bed," Becca announces bossily and Ruth stuns us all into laughter by sighing dramatically, rolling her eyes like a petulant teen. It gets a wryly dirty look from my sister and Sarah and I laugh all the harder.

I'm still chuckling as I follow the smirking Ruth to the big master bedroom and toss her onto the bed to welcome us both home in proper fashion.

++ Ruth ++

By the end of these longer missions, I'm usually feeling my age and the cradle of our fancy bed is a welcome relief after too long in hotels. And, like the end of every mission, Jamie's wired and horny as a dog in heat. However, we've figured out a good middle ground that satisfies our very different needs. Nearly growling at me, Jamie sprawls half over my sturdier body, kissing me deeply, wantonly. I can feel her other hand against my thigh where she strokes herself up the slippery slope to a quick, hard orgasm.

This was a rough mission and Jamie doesn't start to relax until the second round of groaning shudders, her body hot and active against mine. I get the benefit of watching and kissing this extraordinary woman without overexerting myself.


End file.
